Harry Potter and the Truth - Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone
by Luna's Meow
Summary: Dark Lords who have managed to nearly take over an entire country aren't beaten by untrained children who manage to get lucky in every encounter with said Dark Lord. They get beaten by warriors with strategy and training. Here is the tale of Harry Potter, how he really defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort, and all that came after. Full summary inside!
1. Summary, Preface and Forword

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, although a few lines may be (very sparingly!) quoted from the original books at times. The amount of quotations should decline the further along to story goes. This disclaimer includes this chapter and all others that follow as they are all one part of a whole story. This disclaimer will be posted in the first chapter of every "book" of this "series".

The Chronicles of Harry Potter

More Commonly Known As:

Harry Potter and the Truth

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Sumary~

The Harry Potter books were intended to be a children's story. This was to (hopefully) reach children during those key develoopmental years and guide them toward the "light", teaching them the values of friendship, trust, honesty, loyalty, and decrease the chances of them becoming "Dark Lords" when they grew older. Here, for the first time, is the unabridged, unvarnished, & (mostly) uncensored tale of Harry Potter during his school years, and all that came after. Also, I listed "Ron bashing" but he isn't going to necessarily be "bashed" I just wanted people to realize that he won't be this "close friend" since he doesn't act like one. I'm not going to go out of my way to make him look bad, but then you don't really have to try all that hard for that to happen.

The boring beginning stuff I try to gloss over but takes up the first three chapters. It sucks because I'm mosty paraphrasing and adding in a few thoughts here and there at that stage. The changes and actual writing starts in chapter four. (Chapter Four by name. Numerically it is chapter 5.) If you give this story a chance, please bear with it up until that point. Also, if you leave a review, check back. I tend to respond to my reviewers. I also recommend checking other people's reviews as I may have answered a question or what appears to be a plot–hole in a review left by someone else.

Slow updates is in the status of both the story and the series. I'm in the US Air Force, currently working 12 and 14 hour shifts. That means that I am tired after work. I also have to do PT to stay physically fit, extra duties, and have a life. I'm also single so I have to hit the streets and bars and such since I am looking to meet someone and get married one day. That leaves precious little time for writing. I get most of my writing done on the weekend, usually only one day of the weekend. This will go faster and slower depending on the week. Don't expect updates every three or so days. It won't happen.

Regarding Formatting:

This story was not formatted for ffnet. I originally put this on hpfanficarchive and so the formatting didn't go through very well here. I haven't posted on this site in a long time, so I have to re–learn the tricks of how to format my works here to get them to appear the way I intend. If any of you have stories here, and know how to get this site to format spaces between paragraphs, please tell me! I forget how I ever got the site to do it before, and its frustrating the hell out of me. I'm sure if I as the author hate it, you the people who actually have to _read_ the story that way must really hate it. That doesn't even add the problem of my signal lines that I was using to indicate breaks in time and scene changes are being edited out too. So, if you want to see the original story, go to the original site. The story is also uncensored at that site, so the eventual sexual parts won't be edited out there.

Regarding Spelling and Grammar:

I currently have no beta, and am doing my best with spell–check and my own considerable vocabulary. I do type the proper way though, having been to typing classes and being an IT professional. This means that sometimes I type too fast and have typos. I always look over my work, but things will get by me. Copy and paste anything you find into a review and I'll edit it for a fix. If anyone wants to volunteer to be a beta for me, say so in a review. I WILL either want to see some of your own work first, or will send you a test chapter and see if I like what you do with it. Thanks!

For people at ffnet, I currently have up to chapter eight already written. As such, those chapters will come up relatively quickly. After that it will slow down.

Regarding the perspective:

The first five chapters will be told with me as a narrator. This is because I am building the setting, much like the beginning of a Disney movie, where the characters do things and talk, but the narrator introduces you to their different backgrounds. After that, it goes between first and third person depending on the part of the story.

Harry Potter and the Truth

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Preface~

Important!

This AN will be a long one. However quite a bit of it will have information that will tell you what to expect from this story. I do understand and respect the rules of this site, but considering how different this is from most fanfiction, I think it is necessary. I do promise that this will be the longest AN in the story, and that all others will be short and to the point. If however, it is too long for you to stomach, do at least read the section marked "Foreword" after this insanely long AN. It's part of the story.

I want to start of by saying this: J. K. Rowling is an amazing storyteller. That is to say, as horrible as she is at _writing_ considering her poor characterization, (especially in Deathly Hallows) her many plot holes, instant making up of entirely new magics that are suddenly commonplace when they never existed prior, not to mention her inability to effectively write her main character in a realistic way, (systematically abused children do _not_ turn into people who trust those around them and make friends easily, not without going through _long_ periods of time where they are anti–social and they definitely don't take betrayal by those friends easily eg: one Ronald Weasley) she has managed to write a wonderful story that has captured millions of readers, (something I have yet to do) successfully become a movie series, and changed her life due to the wealth she has garnered from it. I dare say that with some writing classes where she could learn the actual mechanics of writing a good story, she'd become an awesome author. The ability to write can be taught, but storytellers are born. She has the gift, I just wish she'd learn to use it better. I don't claim to be a great writer or a great storyteller, but I am definitely an awesome editor. Hopefully that ability can translate to me writing a passable fanfiction of my own. I guess we'll see. And do please let me know if I am succeeding or failing.

Regarding reviews: Reviews exist for two reasons.

1: To thank an author for making an awesome story, provided it is actually awesome, of course.

2: To give _constructive_ criticism, so that a not–so–awesome author can get better, perhaps even eventually _becoming_ awesome.

The first everyone loves, the second, not so much. If you are going to leave criticism, please take note of what I say next.

I take criticism just fine, as long as it is both polite, and informative. If you leave a rude review, or one that only says something is bad, but not why it is bad, and/or (both would be better, but one is sufficient) a way to make it better, well, I don't take that so well.

Also, criticism and arguing specific points are very different. If you want to argue a point with me, do not get upset with an argumentative response. I tend to argue things, as if I'm, well, arguing them. It doesn't mean I'm trying to insult your intelligence or anything like that. But if you start throwing insults, be sure you can take insults as well, not just give them. Keep insults out of your argument, and I'll keep them out of mine. I am quite capable of reasoning like a civilized being.

More important things about the story:

Characters in the story will oftentimes state things as if they were factual knowledge. Do not mistake this as _me the author_ stating things as factual knowledge. I do this because I am trying to make my characters realistic in their actions even if their reality (eg: dragons) isn't. How many times does someone you know say something like it's fact, only to be proven wrong 5 minutes later? An hour later? Years later? All the time. If a character says or thinks something, _it is only what that particular character thinks. The only definite facts are included in any hints I may leave in my author's notes before or after story content._

Characters will be different! Draco will still be an arrogant ass, but like any pure–blood, he'll actually know how to bite his tongue and pick his battles. He has been trained in politics from the time he was old enough to make political mistakes after all. He is heir to House Malfoy, and as such is the magical equivalent of a noble. They are trained, and trained well. Crabbe and Goyle will still be his muscle, but they will be effective muscle.

Harry is going to be quite a bit different than the original. He will actually have a brain and put it to use. In the books when Harry apparated via accidental magic as a child, he actually thought the _wind_ carried him up onto the roof. How stupid is that? And let's not mention how he completely ignored Hermione about the dangers of suddenly receiving a broom from a person with no name right after a man who (supposedly) wants to kill him has escaped from prison. Even with his initial excitement, he should have realized the danger and the logic of the situation once she spelled it out for him! We're supposed to believe that someone that stupid, was able to defeat the most–dangerous–Dark–Lord–in–history? So yeah, expect changes there.

Harry won't be a genius, but he will be as smart as I am. My IQ is pretty high, just shy of genius level, so basically, smarter than practically every pure–blood wizard in the cannon, and most of his schoolmates. However, he will still make mistakes, after all, he's very smart, and such intelligence usually brings confidence, at least in your own ideas if nothing else, and so you sometimes will accept those ideas without fully checking them, and thus make foolish mistakes. Also, we have the gift of foreknowledge, something Harry doesn't have. He hasn't read all the books like we have. So don't expect him to become Godlike right away and sweep away all his enemies in one fell stroke, undermining all their plans. He will eventually become godlike, but that's only natural. He is already legitimately a super–powered (and super rich) wizard in cannon, (eg: able to defend from about a hundred dementors with a single patronus as a _child_ while most _adults_ can't even _perform_ the spell, and the few that can have trouble with any amount greater than one) and he will have the logic of a muggle. As such, he will find ways to put magic to more practical use. However, his knowledge as a muggle is somewhat stunted due to the way he was raised, so several things that might be obvious to other muggles won't necessarily be to him, so he might not think of some things normal people would, or even get popular references.

Oh and, someone on another site claimed that Rowling said his ability to power his patronus to such strength was because of his "great love". I don't know if she really said that or not, but again, plot holes. For example: Um, you mean that Harry has more love than the love a mother/father has for their child? Really? At 14? After all he's been through? Most people who are physically and emotionally abused to the extent Harry is aren't even sure they are capable of love, if they even believe it exists. They usually doubt love, tending to need proof, and testing that proof to radical extremes before trusting it. And besides, there is other evidence for his being exceptionally powerful.

The battle in the graveyard at Voldemort's resurrection was proof of Harry's power. When the two brother wands fought, it was Harry (still a child remember, a teen, but a child nonetheless) who triumphed and performed priori incantem on Voldemort, not the other way around. People say that was due to Harry's willpower, but that is due to a common misconception about the essence of will.

Will, in and of itself, is not power. Will _cannot_ make a man lift an elephant if he is not _physically capable_ of it. It _can_ however, allow a man to draw out the very peak of his physical capabilities, allowing him to use more strength than he ever has before, and then lift that elephant, as long as he is _actually physically capable_ of the act. Will does this much like adrenaline, flight or fight reactions, simply because of the danger, need, or other emotions involved in the situation. Ergo, Harry is magically stronger than Voldemort in the graveyard. His will, and his desperation, allowed him to power his magic to his fullest at that moment.

Whether Harry being stronger was only due to Voldemort not also being in a life–threatening situation, as he was surrounded by allies and was overconfident in his ability to defeat Harry one–on–one, him being weak as he was newly resurrected, or some other factor(s) will remain to be seen in this version of the story.

Also, Harry's personality will be more realistic. After all, he has been _abused_ his whole life, that is cannon. What will change is the result of said abuse. He will not just believe everything anyone tells him, simply because he won't trust anyone, unless he has a reason to. He will be able to socialize, mostly because he got beat and punished more for standing out, so while he did learn to appear to fit in, he doesn't actually become the center of attention often. Think of him as the moody kid you knew in school who could fit in a discussion with everyone here and there, but mostly kept to himself. Even when he was a part of the group, he could go from being the center of attention to suddenly being gone and nobody realizes it for an hour, and even then, nobody knows exactly when he left. Remember that guy/girl? That's Harry.

Harry will also be very introverted from his forced isolation at home, and he will always be on the lookout for traps and betrayals from being used to getting into trouble for anything at all, and Dudley always had some way of trying to trick him into getting into trouble even more. He also likes to read. No matter how many chores the Dursleys gave him, if he kept up on everything daily, things didn't get dirty enough for him to have to take hours to clean them. That left him lots of free time during the summer and any other such breaks from school. He filled that time at the library, his only safe haven away from home. Lastly, he will be a very logical person. Most of his emotions will not be there, save anger and joy as like many who have grown up abused he knows how to take joy from things that some consider small, and always lived with his rage. Still, while that rage can be explosive, it is mostly a cold contained anger that simply feeds his desire for revenge and power. Sometimes he will be set off by something small, other times something large. Sometimes he won't even appear to react to something that everyone will expect him to explode about. He's moody, and he's also a kid. It's how life works.

I grew up in a similar lifestyle, so I do actually know what I'm talking about. My life was not as bad as the Harry that I'll be portraying here in some ways, it was worse in others. Definitely worse than the Harry in the original story though. (For the most part. I didn't grow up in a broom closet under the stairs, thankfully.) I also know many people who grew up in similar ways and we all reacted differently in some ways, but other ways are the same all around. As such I will mostly be drawing from my own experiences when displaying his character. He will eventually open up, and sometimes he will open up and then clam right back down to his angry moody self. This is both normal and realistic. We are social creatures, and sometimes we can't help but open up if we have let our guard down. The difference between "normal" people and abused people is that abused people will _notice_ that they have opened up and suddenly clam up tighter than ever because of their fear of opening themselves to weakness (interior) and thereby danger (exterior). Especially when they are trying to change and be "normal". It's hard, and it takes time.

About pairings for this story:

For those wondering about pairings, I can't say yet who Harry will end up with as I haven't decided. I _can_ say with nearly complete certainty that it _will not_ be Ginny. Harry has been abused all his life and is not very trusting. Once he finds out he is both rich _and_ famous in the magical world, he will immediately see Ginny's infatuation as normal groupie behavior and be suspicious of any feelings from her from that point forward, even more so considering she had a crush on him before ever even meeting him, and therefore had a crush on "fake Harry" from the books about his "life".

Harry will be far more likely to fall for someone he can trust, someone who has not betrayed him in any major way, at least not without being able to give a _reasonable_ _and_ _logical_ explanation as to why they didn't think it was a betrayal, or felt that it was absolutely necessary, and are able to show that it was intended to be in his best interests, even if the situation didn't work out to actually be that way in the end. Basically, of the cannon characters (the ones he actually interacted with) that puts Hermione at the top of the list of those Harry will like. That _does not_ however mean that this is automatically going to become a Harry+Hermione=Love story. It still leaves it open–ended as to who else could fill that role. There are many potential characters at Hogwarts to fit into that equation, especially as most of the people there had barely any mention, so I can make up personalities as I go, and I will need to as the story begins to diverge more and more from cannon.

Also, whether Hermione ends up with Harry or not, she will not end up with Ron. It's one thing to have sexual tension, but quite another to be with someone who downright disgusts you, blatantly uses you, and shows no regard for anything you say unless it involves the answers for the homework.

Yes, there are people who go for relationships where they are treated like crap all the time, (usually due to low self–esteem issues) but I don't see that in Hermione's character. Maybe at first, when she was sure she was ugly, and probably thought Ron would be the only one to ever notice her, but after having that completely refuted by Victor Krum? That's like a girl in our current day being the crush of say... Justin Bieber (considering we're talking about teens) and thinking of herself as ugly. It's just stupid. If Ron at least treated her half–way decently some of the time I could see it being UST causing their problems, but they have had issues from the start, when they were eleven, far too soon for it to be UST. A crush, maybe, but UST? I doubt it.

Even beyond UST, you have to face it, while you do need to have some things different between you and your partner, you do have to have _some_ things the same as well, so that you aren't fighting _all_ the time, and Hermione and Ron are polar opposites. Only Harry holds them together. No one likes a boring relationship where everything is smooth all the time, but it's even worse to be in a relationship where you never can agree, even on smallest of things! How do you relax? It seemed more to me like Rowling pushed Ron and Hermione together because she wanted Harry with Ginny to make Harry gain a loving family, and didn't want to leave Ron and Hermione without a significant other. Then, after deciding that they needed someone, it was simply easier to force the two of them together, than to have to create two new major characters for us to care about. I may be wrong, but it was definitely forced. That won't happen here.

Finally, expect this book (yes book) to go by slowly. I plan on writing it while reading the series side–by–side. Many things will change obviously due to events in this version, but the major events should stay the same (in this one). I plan on going from before the beginning of first year on up the chain. We'll see how far I go. Please review if you like or dislike the story, and say what it is you like or dislike about it. Copy and paste any specific parts into your review so I can see exactly what you're talking about if you feel really strongly about something. Reviews are what feed us authors. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the ride!

~End AN's – Begin Story~

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Foreword~

By An Unknown Party

This is the story of a boy. A boy who changed the world. His name is Harry Potter. Well, Harrison Potter really, but as he doesn't go by that name, and quite honestly didn't know for many years that it even _was_ his name, that hardly matters.

Harry Potter wasn't your average child. Now, as you read this, you're probably rolling your eyes and thinking, "Of _course_ he's not average. _Everyone_ knows he was a wizard!" but that's not what I mean by normal. No, what I mean is that Harry didn't grow up like most of you reading this. Hopefully none of you reading this had to grow up like he did. Of course, that would mean the world has become a better place than I could ever imagine, or it could mean that only the privileged can read, like it was in the olden times, though I doubt that either is true.

Who am I, you ask? I am a... historian of sorts. I also happen to be a descendant of Harry Potter myself. This obviously makes my quest for the truth of my ancestor a very personal one. I have done extensive research, followed countless leads, and finally managed to gain access to what remains of the Potter family vault. Surprisingly enough no one in the family had claimed it in many years. We don't even know who the most direct descendant is, not that it really matters. Apparently Harry decided that his knowledge and power were far too dangerous, and so he sectioned off his own vault. Any descendant may enter and claim a portion of the gold within, limited to whatever amount a blood test gives them, but to gain access to the spell tomes, and his personal journals you have to be tested. I failed, like all who came before me. I was lucky enough to be deemed worthy of reading the journals of his son. I suspect that I was not allowed the journals of Harry himself because they contain information on various "dangerous" magics, if not some of the spells themselves, much like his personal grimoire.

So who am I, you ask again? Of what family? Which descendant? My family name does not matter, all that matters is that the books about Harry Potter that you have read are not the real thing. You see, the books about him were written before he even knew who he was, or why he was famous even as an eleven year old child. They were full of sensationalism, Harry Potter and his so–called "adventures". Fighting dragons, slaying dark wizards, besting evil magical creatures, and outwitting muggles. Even the "official" books are mostly fiction. It started as a real story, just toned down and edited for children, but you know how the editing process can go, by the time they get done with it, it may not resemble the real thing at all, and if it does, only barely. (Although he did best a dragon, and slay a dark wizard, namely the Dark Lord Voldemort, there was only one dragon bested during his school years, and that was more a test than a battle, and Voldemort is the only dark wizard Harry ever faced. Well, there were others after Voldemort, but I am referring to the stories of him defeating numerous dark wizards in–between the time of Voldemort's first defeat and his eventual resurrection.)

In truth, Harry was not fighting these different magical creatures before even entering Hogwarts, the famous school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and not even during or after for the most part. (Although there was that one basilisk, and the time with the dementors... Oh never–mind.) The point is, he mostly led a quiet life. Sure he fought when he needed to, but he preferred to be left alone, enjoying the peace he had fought for. This I know for a fact. How do I know these things you ask? Well the book you are about to read is copy of the original. The book written by the first–born son of Harry Potter himself! Yes, Lord Sirius Harrison James Potter–Black, Lord of the entirety of the Potter–Black realm, Head of his House, and ruler of Magical Europe. He heard this story from his parents' own mouths. They also gave him pensieve memories so that he could see the events with his own eyes. Pensieve memories that I have also had the privilege of viewing as they were stored along with this book. Perhaps once you read this book you may understand why my ancestor decided to keep it hidden, to allow the lighter version of this tale to be known instead. Perhaps, if nothing else, it was to hide the truth about the "power–that–he–knows–not." After all, didn't you ever wonder why a spell designed to rip the soul from your body would leave a scar that just so happened to be in the shape of a lightning bolt, when it never left a mark on anyone else? Well, it is quite a secret, and it could be dangerous to let the knowledge out, but unfortunately I do not agree. Dangerous knowledge always gets out, and if it isn't shared openly, it tends to only get out to the very people you want to keep it secret from. We cannot shy away from the darkness inside the human heart. To ignore it, or pretend it isn't there only leads to our downfall. We must face the darkness, or one day it will swallow us all. I believe that such a time is coming upon us once again, and so I feel that people need to know the type of horrors they can and likely will face should another Dark Lord rise. If we expect them to be as easily bested as the Voldemort in the tale we have all read, we will be woefully unprepared for the reality of darkness, death and carnage that a true Dark Lord will unleash. So ignore the sensationalism you've read elsewhere. Forget the soft, easy way things seemed to go in the children's version of this tale. For this is the true, unabridged, unvarnished & (mostly) uncensored tale of my ancestor and his mortal enemy, Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, and all that came after. This is the tale of how he changed the world.


	2. Introduction, Prologue and Chapter One

AN: There was the opening to the story last chapter after that insanely long author's note. (I honestly didn't intend it to be so long, it just kind of happened.) Its not much, but if you missed it just go back, then skip down and you'll find it. Its separated from the AN. Also, I'm going to start off with only little details of the train station and ride. Mostly I'll be writing the differences at first. We all know the basics of the original ride and sorting, so I'll be skipping the small stuff. Like the conversation Ron and Harry have about Quidditch and how "horrible" Ron's life is being the youngest son. I'll narrate it in some way, but it won't be extensive, more of an overview. The detail will come once things really start diverging. Mostly after the first few days at Hogwarts. Until the story diverges enough that I can't, I plan to follow the original spacing of chapters. Meaning that if one chapter ends with the arrival at Hogwarts, so will mine. It won't matter if I have a lot less happen before I reach that point, it simply serves as a good way of deciding where to end my chapters at first. Once the divergence is too great, I'll find my own end points. Some chapters may be long, some short, and some somewhere in–between. We'll see how it turns out.

~End AN's – Begin Story~

Legal Magical Disclaimer: All spells listed in this book are real, though the wand movements, spellwords used, and method of inventing/discovering are false to avoid replication by unauthorized parties. Also, depending on where you are reading this, sexual content may have been edited out in order to make this "age–appropriate". This is the only censorship involved in this tale. All events are true. This I swear on my magic, my life, and my very soul. Should I tell false, may all these things be sent to the plane of existence that the muggles know as "Hell". The plane whose true name I dare not write here, (the true name of "Hell" is actually written as a runic "glyph" and if written by a magical being can draw in magic all on it's own to power a gateway to and from that realm) for fear of inadvertently imbuing it with enough ambient magic to open a slight crack that it's denizens could find and widen, allowing them a foothold here in our own plane. This is my will, so mote it be. ~Lord Sirius Harrison James Potter–Black

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Introduction~

By Lord Sirius Harrison James Potter–Black

I shall begin by assuming that you have read the children's tale of my father's life. After all, it is required reading in schools now–a–days. I am for the most part going to gloss over his life with the Dursleys as the books got that part right; the only notable difference being that it was much, much worse. So, here are some small details to get your mind going: The cupboard under the stairs. Have you ever seen one? Only the older houses actually have them anymore. It's more of a compartment than anything really. Big enough to put a bike in, and stand up straight if you're less than 6 feet tall, but not much more, and that usually depends on what part you're standing in as the ceiling slopes downward with the staircase that is above it. You certainly couldn't fit a bed of any size in one.

My father's "bed" consisted of old torn covers and sheets, much like what a dog would lay in if it's owner(s) couldn't afford to buy it a proper dog bed. They had holes everywhere, and he went to sleep cold more often than not in the winter. Luckily, central heat and air had not become commonplace yet, and so the Dursleys could not keep themselves warm without also having the temperature in my father's "room" be warm as well, or he'd likely have died there his first winter. That and they didn't want him to die for fear of attracting attention from their neighbors. He ate very little food, enough to survive, and not look emaciated, but certainly nowhere near what he actually _needed,_ and he was also beaten regularly. Not merely beaten with a belt, but physically struck with fists, feet, and anything that was near at hand any time they felt a need to punish him. For this reason, unless he was performing chores, my father mostly stayed in his "room" reading and daydreaming, so as to stay out of their way and give them less reason to hit him. He was somewhat lucky however. Vernon Dursley was a business man, and a fairly successful one at that, and so often had guests over. So Harry couldn't afford to stink, or have his room smell as that would make the house smell as well. So he was able to wash himself, his clothes, and his room on a fairly regular basis, so long as he was quick about it and didn't waste water. This kept his wounds from getting infected, keeping him out of the hospital for the most part, although he did have to go several times when Vernon or Petunia hit him too hard and broke a bone or two. They didn't do that often as they were afraid of being asked too many questions if Harry was in the hospital too often for broken bones, but it did happen on occasion.

Still, he didn't worry too much about the damage being done to him. He almost always was healed up in a few days, and whenever they had beaten him so severely that he might actually be seriously injured, they at least gave him a few days off from his chores to recover. That is until the day he went to Hogwarts. This is where the story really begins...

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Prologue~

It had been a very long day for Harry Potter, not that he ever really had short ones. After all time flies when you're having fun, but Harry Potter didn't get to have fun. If he ever looked like he was enjoying anything, someone would find some way to spoil it. In both their normal school, and their Sunday school he was bullied by his cousin Dudley and his like–minded friends. No–one did anything about it of course. After all, when do teachers ever actually do anything about bullying? They may make a slight effort to stop what they see when it is done right in front of their faces, but it's usually just a short stop–gap measure that they know won't do anything for more than the five minutes that they happen to be around. His lunch money had been taken, not because "Dudders" didn't get enough from his parents to pay for however much he wanted to eat, but because it was another method of torturing Harry.

To be honest, he was lucky that he was sent with lunch money at all. That had only come about when one teacher who actually cared about her students had noticed that Harry didn't go into the lunchroom during the lunch break and that he didn't have a bag lunch like the other students who avoided the cafeteria. She had called the Dursley's wondering about Harry's lunch after seeing this go on for several days. Anything that caused attention had to be quashed immediately, so the Dursley's started giving Harry the minimum amount of money necessary for a school meal claiming that he had been spending the money elsewhere without their knowledge. Still, the fact that one teacher actually cared enough to notice, and then take the extra step in making an actual effort to help him gave Harry pause. It wasn't every day he saw or experienced something that made him think humanity had a chance to be something better than a bunch of rabid animals simply pretending to be civilized, only awaiting a single random occurrence to remove the veneer of civility that they hid behind on a daily basis. But then, he had always considered that there were at least _some_ decent people in the world. Just not many. One, maybe even two percent, tops. It couldn't possibly be much more than that. Others might argue this belief, but Harry used experience as his guide in this, not some arbitrary possibility of nice, caring individuals that he had never met. Not when he saw every day how the normal "good people" in his neighborhood pretended not to notice the obvious signs of his abuse. They simply turned their eyes, much as they did when they saw a homeless person, or a mentally unstable one. They allowed him to blend into the background, where they could pretend he either didn't exist, or that he was exactly as bad as his aunt and uncle claimed. That was proof enough for Harry. Much more proof than being told that caring people supposedly existed "somewhere" and he just hadn't met any yet. What were the odds after all? That every other neighborhood was mostly filled with people like those in this one, or that this neighborhood was just full of all the "bad" people? No. People were animals, and like animals, they only cared for themselves, their young, and just like other members of the primate family, those in their personal social circle.

Still, this day in particular had one thing good about it. This was the day that he had a chance at a new life, one away from the Dursleys! Apparently from what Hagrid the giant had told him, the reason he always felt like an outsider with everyone was because he actually _was_ one. He was magical. A wizard, to be precise. And he was to go to a new school full of other wizards just like him! It was against the religious teachings of his Sunday school, (not that the Dursley's were religious, but they sent him and Dudley there to appear to be even more upstanding to the others in the neighborhood) but he didn't really believe everything he had been told there anyway. Still, maybe those miracles they always talked about were made by magic! It made sense. If magic was real, then miracles suddenly became very logical when magic was performed in front of muggles. Especially muggles from thousands of years ago. But while a lot of people would argue about those same points, getting upset enough to come to blows with each other, that didn't really matter to Harry. What mattered to Harry was that he would finally be around other people like him. He wouldn't get into trouble for strange things happening around him that he couldn't help, and he wouldn't get beaten and thrown into a cupboard for simply existing.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd actually have friends. People he could trust. Surely other wizards and witches had to be better than normal people. After all, they'd probably all caused rather strange things to happen from time to time, which would only make them stand out from everyone else, turning them into a target for bullying just like he had been. Maybe, for once, he'd actually meet decent people. It was this hopeful thought that enabled him to overlook the fact that his letter had been addressed to "The Cupboard Under the Stairs" meaning that whomever had written him certainly knew the horrible conditions he was living in. A fact that he would remember at a later date. And so here is where I will (finally) start our grand tale. At King's Cross; a train station where Harry found himself abandoned by his relatives but only after they had taken the trouble to show him quite plainly, that platform nine and three–quarters simply did not exist.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Chapter One~

Harry was at a loss. Here he was, at a train station all alone, looking for all intents and purposes like a rather unusual lad. After all, it wasn't every day that you saw an eleven–year–old boy with a large trunk, and a cage with a snow–white owl. Most children had an adult with them for company. Sure, there were a few that traveled alone, unsafe though that is, but none of them had an Owl with them! Harry was quite nervous and people were starting to stare. Unused to being the center of attention, indeed, being infinitely more used to _avoiding_ attention, Harry immediately made himself appear smaller and uninteresting. If asked, he couldn't really describe how he did it, only that he sort of shrank into himself. Luckily, this tactic worked about as much as usual, and people quickly started looking away from him, as people tend do when around the unfortunate.

Using his relative anonymity Harry started looking around for other people like him. It took a while, but eventually he saw a family of red–heads who also had an owl with them. That didn't necessarily mean that they were magical, but it was all he had to go on at the moment, and it was better than nothing. Creeping closer he heard one of them muttering "...bunch of bloody muggles all around..." and with a sigh of relief he approached them to ask for help getting to the platform.

"Um, excuse me ma'am? I'm trying to find platform nine and three–quarters and–" Harry started before being interrupted by the somewhat overweight woman.

"First time at Hogwarts?" She replied. "You'll be fine. This is Ron, he's new too. Now just watch Fred and George, they'll show you how to get to the platform."

It shouldn't have surprised Harry to see the twin red–heads run straight into the wall between platforms nine and ten, only to disappear instead of bouncing off of it, but then magic was still so new to him that seeing the laws of physics completely ignored like that still left him a bit off balance. Gathering his courage, he thanked the woman and went through the barrier himself, albeit at a normal walk rather than a run. He didn't want to attract attention to himself by running and have people see him disappear into the wall after all! From what he had gathered in his day at Diagon Alley, the reason muggles didn't know about the magical part of the world was because they went to great pains to keep themselves hidden. And considering what he learned about magic at Sunday school, and also in his history classes at his regular school, they probably had good reason for it.

The other side of the portal (it had to be a portal after all, an entire train station can't fit inside that small wall, and this part of the station looked _completely_ different) looked much the same at first. There were people milling about with their children and bags, and there was a huge train right in front of him. But that's where the similarities ended. Once you actually got past the obviousness of this being a crowded train station and really _looked_ there were differences everywhere to see. Owl's were hooting at each other from their cages. Cats walked around freely, though they often seemed to go back and check on a certain group of people, likely their owners. There were even toads hopping around, though they were few and far between. One boy named Neville seemed to have lost his.

The train was due to leave in a few minutes, and not knowing anyone Harry made his way through the crowd, onto the train, and went back to nearly the last compartment. There were seats farther up, but he chose an empty one simply because it would be easier if he was alone for the ride. Of course, as much as he tried to hide his scar by keeping his face angled downwards, several people had noticed it, and asked his name, including the twins from before. Honestly he didn't think he'd get any peace on the way in if he really was as famous as he'd seemed when Hagrid had taken him to the Leaky Cauldron on the way to Gringotts a few weeks prior. Still, maybe they'd see him sit by himself and realize that he didn't feel like having company. It was a long–shot he supposed, but there was always the chance.

Looking out the window, he heard snatches of conversation from the family he had spoken with earlier. The twins were telling their mother that he hadn't just been some poor mixed–up boy, but none other than _Harry Potter_ himself. He hated that. All these people were acting like he was some kind of idol. Everywhere he went they stared and talked to him like they knew him. All he wanted was to be left alone. It wasn't fair. At least the famous people in the muggle world _chose_ to be famous when they tried to become a singer, or actor, or some such thing. He hadn't tried to do anything. All he wanted was to live, and yet he had to endure all the problems that came with fame, but so far hadn't received any of the benefits. Sure, he was rich, but that came from some dead parents that he couldn't remember, and he couldn't really go spending too much of that anyway, since anything that he wanted would have to go home with him at the end of the term, and if the Dursleys found out that Harry was rich, they'd waste no time getting access to his vault and emptying it of everything inside. Considering they were his legal guardians, it probably wouldn't be too difficult for them to pull off either. He'd probably end up surrounded by groupies if the girl, Ginny was anything to go by. When he'd been out there asking how to get to the train she hadn't given him more than a passing glance, not even a polite hello, but now that she knew who he was she was suddenly eager to get on board the train just to look at him! As if she hadn't seen him only a moment before! Still, he was going to be away from the Dursleys. How often had he thought that he'd give anything to get away from them? He was rich, and he was famous. The latter could be annoying, but he'd been prepared to give up almost every comfort of life to get away before. Whatever he had to go through, it would be worth it. That was when the door to his compartment opened up, interrupting him from his train of thought. It was the boy, Ron the other new kid.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

Having only just passed through the previous compartments himself, Harry doubted that all the seats that he had passed up were taken already, numerous as they were. He had only come so far back himself because he wanted to sit _alone_. At the very least, the boy could have likely taken a seat with his brothers. 'He probably just wanted to come sit and talk with the famous Harry Potter. Ah well...' he thought to himself as he sighed almost inaudibly, 'I'm going to have to get used to it anyway, so I may as well start now. At least he's only one person, and I DO have questions of my own that he could probably answer for me.' His mind made up, Harry shook his head at the boy to let him know that the seat was available. 'Not that he couldn't tell that for himself. Everyone on this train is bound for Hogwarts, and there aren't any bags in this compartment except for mine. Still, I suppose he could have just been being polite by asking. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt at least.'

The twins stopped in to introduce themselves and let Ron know that they were headed back to the middle of the train. Something about a giant spider. 'Well, that settles any doubts about all the other seats being full, and about him sitting with them. They were probably supposed to look after him until they got to school.' Conversation with Ron wasn't too bad though. There was a wizard sport of some sort called Quidditch, different Hogwarts houses, other students who came from muggle families and so would be just as lost as Harry, and Ron's family weren't too well off if the hints he dropped were anything to go by. 'At least his hand–me–downs actually _fit_. They'd probably manage to scrape some money together if they didn't. It's not like me, where they _could_ get me clothes that fit if they wanted, they honestly can't really afford to.' He hadn't been able to resist buying several of every kind of sweet the lady with the cart had offered, he wasn't allowed his own before after all. And with Ron looking so desperate he couldn't help but share. He knew what it was like to want something very badly and know you had no hope of having one. And it was worth it, if only to be warned about Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. I mean really, boger flavor? What were they thinking? Just because you _could_ do nearly anything (apparently) with magic, didn't mean you _should_. Some things were just better left undone.

They were interrupted three times more, once by Neville, the boy Harry had seen looking for his toad earlier at the station, and again by a girl named Hermione. She seemed a little difficult to talk to, but not mean, just... well it wasn't like the easy conversation he had going with Ron. The good thing was that she didn't seem to freak out and go insane with awe when she found out his name. She'd been curious, and told him about several books he was featured in (he'd have to look those up later, if only to see what they said) but not... groupie–like. 'Maybe this won't be so bad after all.' Although Ron seemed to not like the girl, Harry found himself hoping that she was in his house, whatever it might be.

The final interruption was the worst. It was the boy that Harry had seen during his trip to Diagon Alley. Draco Malfoy. He hadn't said anything _too_ bad when they'd met previously in Madam Malkin's, but enough that it could be inferred that he had some kind of prejudice against those not from magical families. He was polite enough at first, looking to meet Harry Potter, but after Ron sniggered at him for no apparent reason, he became much more hostile. When he held his hand out to for a shake, Harry took it, much to Ron's surprise. He didn't think he'd end up getting along with this boy, (he reminded him too much of a skinnier, haughtier version of Dudley for that) but he hadn't been rude to Harry, or even Ron until after Ron had been rude first, and it wouldn't do to make an enemy so soon. His comment about some families being better than others didn't sit well with Harry though. Sure, there were always people you did and didn't associate with, but Harry had a feeling Draco meant more about status of some sort than he did personality. He wasn't sure he sat well with that. The situation almost degenerated into a fight, after Ron said a few things that made Draco go off about the Weasley's and Hagrid, but Ron's rat, Scabbers put an end to that before it could really go anywhere.

The commotion from Draco and his lackeys clashing with Ron drew Hermione's attention back to their compartment, so she stopped by to scold them on fighting. Harry could see her point, even if Ron glared at her like she was the reason Malfoy had even come into their section of the train. Her voice was a bit sniffy when she left though. Almost like she was holding back tears.

Once the train stopped and they were off the train Harry took a good look around. He hadn't noticed due to all the interruptions and the near–fight on the train but the scenery had definitely changed. It was cold for one, enough so that he shivered with the wind. They were in some kind of woods, or forest. The station was small, but Hagrid was there waiting for them. He led them to a lake where they all got in boats, four each. Harry shared with Ron, Hermione, and Neville. But it was Hogwarts itself that sparked Harry's interest. It was everything he'd imagined, and much that he hadn't. It was an enormous castle, sitting on a cliff. There were towers, ramparts, even a drawbridge and a moat, like the castles in olden times. Indeed, maybe this castle had once been a place that needed to be defended. Owned by a king or a duke, or lord. Maybe battles had been fought here.

They were taken in through a tunnel that led under the castle. It had probably once been a secret exit for whoever ruled these lands before it became a school. There was a secret harbor and everything. Boarding the boats Harry ended up grouped with Ron, Hermione, and Neville. The ride wasn't long, seemed more like an unnecessary tour than anything. After all, couldn't they have just gone in through the front door? Once out of the boats they were led further in through tunnels made of stone, and at the end was a single large oak door. Hagrid checked to see if everyone was accounted for one last time, both students and their familiars, before he lifted his giant hand and knocked three times on the castle door.


	3. Chapter Two

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Chapter Two~

**AN:** If you're expecting huge changes to happen, you have the right story. If you expect them almost right away, you have the wrong one. Once the story gets to the point of the troll attack you should start seeing more noticeable changes. Pretty much everything up until that point will be the same. Honestly, most of first year will be the same; the major differences being what Harry thinks and notices about people's actions. The perspective of the story will probably start to change after the troll attack though, as the story will have a _lot_ more dialogue instead of all of this narration, due to Harry's increased interaction with Ron and Hermione. I need to set the groundwork, before I go crazy with change. Harry has to find his feet in this new world, stepping lightly at first, learning his boundaries. He's not all–powerful yet you know. He will get powerful as the story goes on, but for now remember that he is just a child. An eleven–year–old student who doesn't know even one single spell. He isn't about to rock the boat, when he doesn't know how to swim. Especially without family to back him up if he causes some kind of trouble. It'll be the same status quo as the books for a while. Have patience, and change will come.

~End AN's – Begin Story~

The door opened before Harry could even blink. There was a tall, dark haired woman in green robes on the other side. She seemed stern, almost like the nuns at his Sunday school. Listening to Hagrid he learned that her name was McGonagall. She was one of the professors here at Hogwarts. He could have probably learned more, but he was too busy taking in the sights all around him.

The hall was enormous. The Dursley's whole house could have fit inside it, with more than room to spare. It was old–fashioned too. They used torches instead of light bulbs, and the effect was amazing. Flickering firelight changes the atmosphere. Light bulbs are well and good for seeing clearly, but for effect... There's nothing like firelight. It can make things creepy, mysterious, and awe–inspiring all at once. This set–up wasn't creepy though. The flames were bright, and not too far apart form one another. The atmosphere was inviting. Harry could almost feel like he had come home, if he knew what that felt like. As it was, it soothed him slightly thought he didn't know why. Some things are unconsciously done.

Following Professor McGonagall, the students were led to a small side–room. Here she explained that they would need to be sorted into their Houses before the welcoming meal. It was a bit disconcerting to know that they would be doing _everything_ with their House. What if friends came together and were separated? Cousins? Siblings? Did they have _any_ time to associate with the other Houses? Harry was new to the wizarding world, and from what Ron said, each house had differing personalities. He wanted to learn all he could about this world. To do that he'd need to socialize. It'd be like an alien coming from outer space and only associating with scientists. That wouldn't give the alien an accurate picture of the world. There were nerds, jocks, and everything in–between. And what if you didn't fit into any of the Houses? Did you just go somewhere at random? Who did this sorting anyway? Was there some kind of personality quiz? It seemed he was going to get his answers soon enough.

After being a bit frightened by ghosts, (Real ghosts, could you imagine?) and wondering what they were doing there (After all, what did ghosts have to do with magic? And why weren't there more all over the world? Unless only magicals could become ghosts?) Harry was pleasantly surprised to see that all he needed to do was try on a hat. He'd watched several others go and it didn't seem too hard, (though some took longer to place than others) and Ron and Hermione both had gotten placed in Gryffindor. The rhyme the hat sang previously made it seem as if all the houses were good. Different, but good although he did mention that Slytherins would use any means to achieve their ends. Was that a hidden jab at them being evil like Ron had said earlier? Malfoy ended up there just a moment ago.

Harry didn't mind being cunning, there was nothing wrong with it, so long as the ends it was used for were good, but he didn't like the look of that House. It was as if they were all one. A singular group that stood out from the rest, and not in a good way either. While not every single member of the House did this, the majority of them sneered at the other Houses whenever they made eye contact. Whatever good there was in that House, it was almost gone. Hufflepuff, known for loyalty and hard work seemed like it'd suit him. He doubted he'd betray anyone who didn't betray him first, and he certainly was used to hard work after living as the Dursley's personal slave for the last several years, but Ron said most people looked at them as pushovers. Harry had been bullied enough in his last school, being looked at as an easy target was not how he wanted to start out here. That left Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Both houses were fine, but the only people he knew other than Malfoy were in Gryffindor, and it was better to start out with people he knew. Especially that Granger girl. Who knew when he'd meet someone else who didn't actually care about his fame? Not to mention that considering that she was muggle–born she already knew a lot about the wizarding world, and was very smart. Between what she could learn from books and what Ron's brothers knew from being raised in the magical world, he'd have a good foundation of information to go on until he learned more about it himself. They'd be good friends to have, and that would only be easier if he were in their House. Still, it was the hat that made the choice, so really all he could do was hope that he didn't get thrust into Slytherin. It was with this in mind, that he walked up and put on the hat once his name was called.

Harry was quickly becoming accustomed to the strange and miraculous since being introduced to magic, so he wasn't all that surprised when he heard a voice in his head.

_[Quoted from the actual book.]_

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting. ...So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin_.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that no? Well, if you're sure better be GRYFFINDOR!"

_[Quoted from the actual book.]_

The hat shouted the last word to the entire hall, letting everyone know where Harry had been sorted. Harry was glad that the hat had listened to him when deciding not to put him in Slytherin, but it was a little strange. After all, people don't know themselves as well as they probably should, even introverted people like Harry. He knew this because he felt he knew himself rather well, having a lot of time to do nothing but think whenever he was being punished by being locked in his cupboard and forbidden the sanctuary of the public library. Even with all of his self diagnosis, he still surprised himself sometimes. Standing up to Dudley on seemingly random occasions. Getting a sudden boost of courage and pride that overwhelmed his normal sense of fear and self–preservation. Bouts of time where his self–esteem swelled to bursting, when he knew that it usually fluctuated from exceedingly high, to drastically low while mostly staying somewhere below average but not quite depressed. The point was, if the hat was supposed to sort you based on who you really were inside, wasn't letting the person being sorted have any say counter–productive? If someone wanted to be brave and a born leader like the heroes in many of the stories Harry had read in the library, wouldn't they ask for Gryffindor? But what if they were better suited to Hufflepuff? It had worked in his favor so he wasn't going to say anything about it at the moment, but it might explain why Slytherin was so full of what seemed to be what the others called "bad seed". If everyone really thought all Slytherins were predisposed to being evil, then every child with anger issues that dreamed of being the next Dark Lord would go there, even if they weren't really cunning at all. Even if it was just a fantasy that they would never have actually tried, simply by wishing to be there and being surrounded by other "like–minded" students they would feel validated in their dark thoughts, and it became a self–sustaining system. They believed they were evil, they knew everyone _else_ believed they were evil, and so they ended up actually becoming evil in the end.

Harry felt sorry for the few he had seen who didn't seem like the majority of their House. They were probably more like what the Slytherin House had been intended to be. Cunning, but not evil. Like a good general, or even the head of a non–profit organization that survived on donations alone, they used their agile minds to formulate plots that furthered their cause, but that didn't necessarily mean that they resorted to evil methods to do so. Sure, there would always be those who took the easy route, but not every person with a cunning mind chose darkness as their path. If you considered the way people thought, they were probably mostly muggle–born children who had no idea how Slytherin was thought of until it was too late. There might be a few who were from magical families, but it couldn't have been too many, since they wouldn't want to go to Slytherin either, well except families like Malfoy's; allthough he supposed that there could be more to it that he was just currently unaware of.

There rest of the feast went by fairly quickly. Ron got sorted into Gryffindor, though whether by his actual courage, or simply his wish Harry didn't know; the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore said a few words, (he was apparently a bit insane, though a genius of some sort) he discovered that someone could, in fact, be _nearly_ headless, and the food was the best he'd ever had. (Though that wasn't saying much really.) After talking with his new House–mates, (during which he learned that magical families would half kill you to make you show your magic if you didn't naturally if half of Neville's stories were true) the first important event happened. He wouldn't know that it was important, or that it was the beginning of what would become the center of the magical world, but it was nonetheless. It was something small, almost irrelevant. He felt a pain in his head, or more precisely, his scar. At first he was confused, he wasn't prone to getting headaches, and he'd had plenty of water, food and rest. Not to mention that this was a sudden sharp pain like a knife actually, rather than the normal steady pounding that would slowly build up until it became debilitating.

It took a few moments of thought to realize that the feeling increased when he looked at Professor Quirrell. He blew it off as coincidence. There was no reason to suspect that a teacher that he'd yet to even meet had any special reason to cause him pain. Most likely the headache had been forming for a while, but his excitement had kept him from noticing. Still, he'd asked about the man and learned that he was a new teacher, as the Defense position was cursed. Which, of course, had nothing to do with Harry. Shaking off his suspicions, Harry tried to listen to what the Headmaster was saying.

"...And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third–floor corridor on the right–hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, only to realize that those who did were in the minority. The extreme minority.

"He's not serious?" he whispered to Percy.

"He must be," Percy replied, frowning at the thoughts running through his mind. "It's strange, usually we know _why_ we're not allowed to go to certain areas of the castle grounds. The forest has all kinds of dangerous creatures, everybody knows that. He could have told us prefects, at least."

The discussion was cut short due to the event that all students universally give a mental groan at: The singing of the school song. If there was one thing Harry had thought Hogwarts would have in common with his old muggle school, having a school song wasn't it. Apparently wizard schools had songs that were even worse than the muggle variety. It tried to be funny, but all it succeeded in doing was being even worse than if it hadn't in the first place.

After the song, Dumbledore dismissed the entire Hall to their dorms to get to bed and ready for classes the next day. A painting, of all things, was the guardian that kept people from going into the wrong dorm. And a password had to be remembered. There was some confusion as people claimed beds, and handled their familiars (Hedwig was easy to handle, she had been placed in the owlery) and Harry fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. His sleep wasn't a pleasant one though, even with the comfort of an actual bed. He kept seeing himself wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, and it was talking to him. It insisted that he transfer to Slytherin immediately, because it was his destiny. When he refused, the turban got heavy, and kept trying to strangle him. He'd try and pull it off, and Malfoy would appear and laugh at him. It wasn't long before Malfoy turned into Professor Snape, and his laugh was high, and cold. In the end there was the green light that he sometimes had nightmares about, and he woke up shivering and sweaty. It was awhile before he fell back asleep, but like most dreams, he didn't remember it come morning.


	4. Chapter Three

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Chapter Three~

**AN:** If it seems like I'm rushing things this chapter and the ones before, it's because I am rushing things. I'm trying to get past all the boring beginning stuff and get to where things start to actually change so that I can really write instead of just paraphrase the book with little things thrown in. I just needed to get to the troll attack. It is the first of many major focal points of possibilities for this particular story. I could have simply started here, but I needed to show the little things that Harry has been noticing and thinking up until that point so that his character change wasn't sudden and unbelievable. Unfortunately it had been so long since I'd actually read the original Harry Potter book (15 years, a decade and a half!) that I didn't realize that the troll is about half–way through it. Still, since I've been glossing over the things that are the same and mainly showing the differences, we're almost there. I'm going to combine multiple chapters from the book into one chapter here to get there faster.

~End AN's – Begin Story~

As soon as Harry left his dorm he heard people whispering. Everyone was pointing and staring. They thought they were being discrete and that he wouldn't notice, but it was glaringly obvious. Apparently, lightening shaped scars were the topic of the day. The worst part of the whole thing was that it annoyed him to the point where he kept getting distracted.

Being distracted was not a good thing in a castle where the stairs moved around, changing where they led, seemingly just to frustrate the person walking on them. More than once a step had disappeared right under his foot causing him to stumble, and he had fallen down a set of stairs twice now. There were doors that you had to talk to in order for them to open, and you'd best be polite about it or you might find yourself getting hit in your rear on your way through! That didn't even count the time he'd asked Peeves for directions. He'd ended up in the forbidden corridor on the third floor with Ron, and the caretaker, Argus Filch hadn't believed them when they told him they were lost. If Professor Quirrell hadn't happened along, Filch might have followed through on his threat to lock them in the dungeons.

How a school could operate like this Harry wasn't sure, but if he wanted to make any of those "wild fantasies" he'd often had when he lay in his cupboard at the Dursley's come true, he'd need to learn how to use magic. He couldn't make his way in the normal world, the Dursley's would make sure of that, by the time he was out of their influence, he'd be on his own and with a bad reputation. He'd have to go somewhere else entirely just to start fresh, and if he was going to make use of his inheritance that he saw in his vault, he'd need to know how survive in this one. So, like he'd been doing for most of his life, Harry just grit his teeth and bore it.

'One day,' he thought to himself, 'One day, I won't have to take anything anymore. I'll be on my own, living the way I want. All I'll have to do is obey the law. No killing, stealing, and so forth. Easy. Especially since I just want to live my life in peace.'

Of course, living your life in peace isn't always as easy as we think it will be, especially when we're children. Harry Potter was going to get a rude awakening to that fact in just a few short weeks, he just didn't know it yet.

Classes were interesting. Magic was harder than he thought at first. He thought it would be simple since the wand acted as a catalyst to pull your magic from you. You didn't have to learn how to control your magic yourself unlike in many of the stories he'd read. It made things significantly easier, but it was also dangerous. If you didn't know how to call out your magic yourself, on command, then without your wand you might as well not have magic at all. It wasn't something he could do anything about at the moment, since Harry had no idea how to train himself to be able to call his magic out on command, although he'd certainly tried when he was younger after teleporting himself to the school roof one day when running away from Dudley, but it was something he put in his mental checklist of "Things to Do" once he had the time and resources. Especially since he now knew what he was trying to do, magic, not some strange teleportation ability that could do that and only that. Surely there had to be books on doing magic without wands _somewhere_. It only made sense, after all, there had to be wizards before there were wands, or there wouldn't have been any wizards to make the wands in the first place!

Even without the issue of learning to summon forth your magic from inside of you, you still had to be extra careful with how you performed your magic. If the spells weren't pronounced just so, the wand movements off by even a millimeter, your spell would fail, or worse, react unpredictably. It didn't make sense to him though. After all, what did sounds have to do with magic? And why were all the spells in bastardized versions of different languages? And mostly Latin at that? I mean, if in order to summon fire you had to say it in Latin, what did magical people do in the past when they were having regular conversation? Latin _was_ the language people used in normal conversation once upon a time. Was it pure coincidence that the language of a spell _just happened_ to be the language that was spoken when it was created? Except for the newer spells of course, which seemed to be primarily the bad Latin that people would speak now since they didn't translate things properly. It was all very confusing.

Imagine how bad it would be. You happen to have your wand on you, and you say something but don't do any wand movements because you're not trying to cast a spell. You're only trying to tell your friend about how Sally down the street had a house fire, and suddenly your pants are on fire because the wand in your pocket thought it was a command. It stood to reason that sound couldn't have anything to do with the spell, that if anything it was _thought_ that controlled whether or not you were performing magic. Otherwise magical people would have to walk around silent their whole lives except when casting spells! They couldn't even use writing to communicate since almost everyone was illiterate until the recent past. Public schools were a thing of only the last few hundred years after all. And even once they had been made most people dropped out early on to work and help support their family. The number of students who had attended secondary (middle) school was under 20% for decades! But how could he argue with what he saw for himself? Ron tried casting the levitation spell, but failed to pronounce it correctly and got nothing. Hermione tried to help him, but Ron didn't really take kindly to that. Another student ended up levitating _himself_ instead of his feather, and promptly fell to the floor.

There must be a reason why magic seemed so mechanical, why sound and wand motions had anything at all to do with it, but it eluded Harry. Yet another thing he'd have to look into later. Right now he had to tell Ron that he'd been an ass and made Hermione cry when all she'd done was try to help him, even if she wasn't as sensitive about it as he might have liked. Honestly, it was like dealing with a baby who couldn't handle if someone was better than him at something. There were several times Harry considered just making a different friend, but people seemed scared to approach him. Other than Ron, no one had really _tried_ to befriend him yet, and he knew his social skills weren't up to par considering that he'd been kept from making friends at school by Dudley, so for now he took what he could get.

The week hadn't been all bad however. Just a few days earlier he had flown on a broomstick for the first time. It had been while the teacher was away, and Hermione had scolded him for breaking the rules, but it was worth it. Neville had been nothing but nice to him, and he wasn't about to let Malfoy mess with his other potential friend. He wasn't scared of Malfoy like he'd been Dudley. Malfoy was nowhere near Dudley's size, and he'd gotten used to Dudley's hits over the years. Honestly, Malfoy probably couldn't fight at all, dependent on magic as he was, so here Harry had the upper hand for once. Crabbe and Goyle were pretty big, but they were even dumber than Dudley, something he hadn't thought possible before without being literally mentally retarded. In fact, they probably _were_ mentally retarded in some way considering that Harry had met mentally retarded people in his old school who seemed more intelligent than Malfoy's two goons. There had been an altercation, he'd threatened to knock Malfoy off his broom from a few hundred feet up, and he'd gotten caught flying unsupervised when the teacher returned. He'd almost gotten in trouble, but somehow ended up getting rewarded instead, given a position on Gryffindor's quidditch team, a sport that did not accept first years.

Hermione didn't like that, as it appeared he was getting rewarded for rule–breaking, and she was also peeved with him for breaking rules by meeting Malfoy for a midnight duel. Malfoy ended up not showing up, and they'd almost been caught by Filch. If it wasn't for her studying ahead and knowing the unlocking charm they would have definitely been caught. Although it was because of that that they ended up face to face with a cerberus, one of the legendary three–headed dogs that the ancient Greeks thought guarded the gates of the underworld, it was the effort that counted. She probably thought he was using his fame to get what he wanted instead of things being fair. She seemed like the kind of person who thought that everything should be fair for everyone and that no one should have an unfair advantage. Harry liked the idea of that too, but he knew that it was only a dream. The world didn't work that way, and it probably never would. His entire life was a testament to that. Still, he couldn't hate her for thinking things were unfair, because they were. It was a shame, because she seemed like a nice girl, and was someone he'd like being friends with considering she didn't treat him any differently than she did anyone else. She didn't point, stare, or whisper about him in the hallways, or at meals. And even if she was a little abrasive in the way she talked to people, she was just as abrasive to everyone else. It didn't seen like it was because she was being mean, she genuinely tried to help people and was just a stickler for the rules. Being treated like everyone else was something he missed. He could only hope that things would change for the better as time went on, though if Ron kept making her cry by calling her names when she was only trying to help him he didn't see that happening any time soon. He was tempted to go after her and make her feel better, but he had to get to class, and it was really Ron who should go to her and apologize since it was he who had made the hurtful comment.

Harry continued walking to class thinking along those lines when he realized something that might be important. 'She used my wand to cast that spell. I thought wands had to be matched to the person to be any good? They say that it's hard to use someone else's wand, if you can use it at all. It was the whole reason you had to get matched to one before you came to Hogwarts. A wand not matched to you could be unusable, unpredictable, or worse, unstable. She used mine like it was her own. I'll have to ask her about that later. Right now I have to figure out how to explain to Ron how to be a gentleman. Apparently the muggle world wasn't the only one that had forgotten things like honor and chivalry.' He'd learned about those things from his many fantasy novels that usually took place in "olden times" and while he was sure that most people always had ignored those so–called rules of society that supposedly existed back then, there had been people who followed them. He never could figure out why those things had disappeared. Some of it seemed stupid, sure. Like standing at the meal table every time a woman did. Did the whole table really need to stop eating and stand just so she could go the ladies room? But others had just made sense, they seemed like good things. Little did he know that he would soon be too busy fighting for his life to even consider what he needed to teach Ron about how to behave in the presence of a lady.


	5. Chapter Four

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Chapter Four~

**AN:** I missed a bit of time before my normal update, we had an exercise at my base. Those of you who have military experience know what that means! After work I was crashing. It just ended yesterday, so here you go.

**AN2:** Here we are. Finally, at the troll. Where I intended to make everything start to change. When I first started this fic I didn't realize that the troll was halfway through the first book! Reading alongside while writing actually sucks... It cramps my imagination, and in going back over what I've written so far, it also makes my writing suffer. Luckily, this chapter is where I stop all that. I put the book down once I got to the troll going into the bathroom. Everything after this is original, so it'll be more of what was expected from the prologue. Thanks for trudging through the preceding chapters to get this far!

~End AN's – Begin Story~

Class had been grueling, as usual. Snape was never going to get tired of berating him for not answering questions enough, or accusing him of being a show–off when when he did try. Harry didn't know what he'd done to deserve his teacher's ire, but it was getting to the point where he had considered making an official complaint to McGonagall. The only reason he hadn't was because he knew Snape wouldn't own up to being a self–righteous prick specifically to Harry on purpose, and in his experience, no adult would believe a student over a teacher. In the end, all complaining would do was make things worse. It could even lead to one of the teachers contacting the Dursleys, and they'd use any excuse they could to pull him out of Hogwarts. Nothing Snape was doing could even up to what he had to live with back on Privet Drive. Ron couldn't understand that no matter how many times he explained it to him when he would ask why he hadn't complained yet. Sure, he hadn't just gone and spilled his guts about the abuse he'd lived with, that was personal, and not something he would be quick to share with others, especially a hothead like Ron who would probably blab it out to anyone in range the moment he and Harry had a fight, hut honestly, how many times did he have to say that dealing with anything Snape could do was better than going back home before you got the general idea if not the details? He was so frustrated that he'd hardly eaten anything on his plate.

The great hall was full, as always, of delicious food that seemed to pop out of thin air. He'd been in school for over a month now and he still didn't know what kind of magic made a tray of rolls stay that perfect temperature that was just warm enough to melt butter, but not hot enough to burn your mouth, let alone keep the tray full no matter how many rolls the people eating took. It reminded him of the story he'd heard at Sunday school about Jesus feeding a huge group of people with just a little bit of bread and fish. 'Heh, wouldn't it just be hilarious if Jesus was actually a wizard? The Dursleys would soil themselves if they knew they went to a church that was dedicated to another "freak" instead of some Holy guy.' he thought to himself. Except Jesus wasn't anywhere in any of the library books. He'd asked Hermione the week before and she'd had the same idea, but hadn't seen him anywhere when she'd tried looking him up. While that didn't prove anything all by itself, you'd think that any wizard that had a whole religion made up after him would be something to write about. 'If he _was_ a wizard, he certainly didn't keep his powers secret, and the magical world seemed pretty adamant about keeping their existence secret from the world. Although since he claimed his powers came from God you could say that he did keep it secret...' Harry shook his head in aggravation. It didn't really matter. It was only idle speculation that had occurred to him because of the similarity of the ever filling dinner trays.

Harry didn't really believe in the church, or God. He didn't disbelieve either, he just reserved his judgment until he saw something that would prove it one way or the other. He certainly wasn't going to easily just believe anything the Dursleys tried to drill into him. Especially when they were hypocrites about it themselves, picking and choosing what parts they wanted to follow. They mostly seemed to do it for appearances (like everything else from their garden to their clothes). Hermione on the other hand, was absolutely convinced that Jesus was a wizard. "It all fits." she said the other day. Her parents had never been particularly religious, and she was even more sure after learning about magic. She was sure she could magic up a way to walk on water once she'd learned more, and do everything except maybe raise the dead. That miracle still bothered her, but she couldn't prove or disprove anything since she couldn't just go back in time and see it for herself.

Still, Hermione had a valid point. How can you accept "miracles" as proof of anything, even if you see them with your own eyes, if you believed in magic? How could you tell the difference between magic and divine power? Was there even a difference? What if prayers were simply another kind of spell? According to the church the Dursleys went to, magic _was_ divine power. They couldn't kill Harry without going to jail, like the preacher's oft quoted line he'd heard from the Old Testament "suffer not a witch to live" instructed them, but they had beaten him even more once the magic had proven true in him (though he hadn't known it for what it was at the time, he just thought of it as strangeness) and even more once he'd received his Hogwarts letter. He'd mentioned the bit about killing witches to Hermione after they'd learned about the Salem witch trials in History of Magic, but she'd said that most of the people who believed that way were gone years ago, and that religious people were (with the exception of a few) much nicer and more open about things than the Dursleys. Harry would hold back judgment on that too, but for the most part he figured she knew what she was talking about since some members of her own extended family were religious. But if it had been that way in the past it might explain why the two worlds were separate. If people thought that wizards and witches were using God's power, only unlike a Holy man they had somehow gained access to it without his permission or worse, using power taken from demons, it was no wonder they couldn't mix. It made the whole thing about false prophets more easy to explain too. It'd be easy to use magic to fake a miracle. 'Like Hermione said, it's no wonder our two worlds aren't mixed, there's just too much that's too sensitive, and neither side is going to want to back down. We're going to have to pick a world to live in when we graduate, and while we can visit the other at times, it's going to mostly be a choice of one over the other. Speaking of Hermione, where is she? She can't still be in the bathroom crying about what Ron said earlier, it's been hours.' He was looking around to see if she was sitting somewhere else (likely since Ron was sitting next to him as usual) and had only just confirmed that she definitely wasn't in the Hall, not even sitting at another House's table, when Professor Quirrell rushed in.

The noise in the hall was deafening. Professor Quirrell had just announced that a Troll had gotten into the castle. Everyone was talking over everyone else, and no one could really make sense of anything. Well, until Dumbledore shot off what looked like the magical equivalent of firecrackers from his wand. He ordered the prefects to lead the students back to their dorms, apparently he and the professors were going to handle the troll. 'Shouldn't the professors be escorting us to the dorms though? What if we run into the troll on the way? Can a prefect beat a troll?' He was about to mention this when another thought raced across his mind. 'Shit! Hermione is probably still in the bathroom! She doesn't know about the Troll!' Ron was right to an extent, she had been a little bit of a pain over the few weeks that they'd been in school together, but it didn't seem mean spirited, and she was _still_ the only person he knew who treated him the same as anyone else. Even if she could be somewhat irksome at times, she genuinely wanted to help, and she _was_ right about the rules. He hadn't even finished this train of thought before grabbing Ron by the arm and slipping off to go and get her from the bathroom.

At first Ron hadn't wanted to go, but the possibility of being on a rescue mission with Harry, making it a real–life Harry Potter adventure, just like the ones in the books his mum read his little sister Ginny at night changed his mind. He'd get to be a hero, just like Harry was in the stories. Sure, he knew now from talking to Harry that the stories were all fake, but he did survive the killing curse. One cast by He–Who–Must–Not–Be–Named himself no less! Surely one little troll couldn't be that bad. Anyway, he was Ronald Billius Weasley! The best of all his brothers even if no one knew it yet. This was his chance to show them all! Besides, the troll was in the dungeons, what were the chances of them running into it on the way to the girls bathroom? He'd get to play hero and there wouldn't even be any real danger.

They had only just gotten away from the group when they heard footsteps behind them. Thinking quickly, Harry grabbed Ron and hauled him behind a large statue of a gryphon. It was professor Snape. Wondering why he wasn't hunting the troll with the other teachers they crept after him. Luckily he was headed in the same direction they were, so they didn't have to choose between following him and warning Hermione. That only lasted for a short while though. Soon Snape split off from where they needed to go. It was obvious that he was headed to the forbidden corridor. They could either chase after him, or go warn Hermione. Before they could even start to make a decision, something else made it for them.

It stank. No, saying that it stank was like saying that getting everything you ever wanted in your whole life on one Christmas was a nice day. It simply failed to express the truth of the experience. The noxious fumes that were being generated by the twelve foot tall man–shaped–beast–creature simply _reeked_ of rot, death, and excrement. It was worse than being sprayed by twelve skunks while sitting in a pile of fresh manure. How no one had been able to find a creature that spread this particularly pungent odor was beyond Harry. All anyone had to do was follow their nose. The only reason he could even think of why he hadn't smelled it approaching sooner was that they had been a floor above it and without wind to carry the scent, the fumes had remained downstairs until the troll had come up for itself.

The troll turned in their direction, and luckily they were still in the shadows from having been trailing Snape, for this giant sized creature was formidable. His arms and legs were as thick as tree trunks, and not like a Dursley either. This was muscle, not a load of fat barely hanging on. Getting hit by that would be a lot worse than being hit by Dudley or Vernon; probably a lot more permanent too. Worst of all? It went right into the girls bathroom.

Harry hesitated. Sure, he'd come to get Hermione; but he wasn't a hero. He was just another eleven year old kid. He didn't know anything about trolls other than what he'd read in fantasy novels like The Fellowship of the Ring. If anything that the muggles remembered about magical creatures from back when the two worlds were still one was true, then trolls were resistant to magic anyway. Mix that with being extremely strong physically, and it took either an extremely powerful wizard, or a great warrior to handle one. Why had he rushed off with Ron on his own? Why hadn't he just told a prefect or a teacher that Hermione was in the bathroom? Hanging around Ron must have affected him more than he thought. He'd never been so impulsive before. The actions he'd taken were completely illogical! And now the only person who treated him just like anyone else was probably going to die.

Harry was like any other kid. He'd daydreamed about being a hero. Probably more often than most other kids. After all, everyone loved heroes. And there was nothing more the love–starved child wanted, even if he wouldn't admit it, even to himself. He looked to his left to see if Ron knew anything that might stop a troll, but Ron was already gone. Faced with the reality of a troll in front of him, he'd turn and run without a word. Not that Harry could blame him, he was honestly considering that course of action himself. The only thing keeping him here was a sense of guilt, because if Hermione died because he ran, it would be his fault for not telling someone, and a tiny part of him had picked up some of those morals from his books. He always helped a girl that was in trouble if he could. He'd taken a beating for one more than once. Dudley had quickly found out that if he couldn't catch Harry, all he had to do was threaten a girl and Harry would trade himself for her. That had only stopped because the girls had complained to their teachers and the teachers actually tried to stop a boy from threatening a girl. When Vernon and Petunia found out Dudley had threatened his classmates, even if he'd only been pretending to get to Harry they'd immediately taken steps to make sure it never happened again. They couldn't have people saying bad things about their child after all.

A loud scream from the bathroom ended Harry's panicked wandering thoughts. Before he even realized it, his feet were moving and he was in the bathroom yelling and pointing his wand at the troll. He had no idea if it spoke English, hell he didn't even know what he'd said, or even what kind of spell he could cast at the thing. Wingardium leviosa was the only spell he knew, at that didn't seem like it would be much use. Actually, maybe he could use it on the club whenever it tried to swing at him to keep it from actually hitting him, but it could still just punch and kick him over and over. If he was older, and his magical core was stronger he could just levitate the damn troll to the ceiling and then he and Hermione could just run out of the room, but Flitwick said that until they got stronger they wouldn't be able to levitate anything bigger than they were. Apparently larger things took more power, and as they got older they would get stronger. Both from age like a physical growth spurt, and from practice. Magic was an awful lot like muscles, getting stronger with use, though some people were naturally stronger than others, and everyone had a peak that they just couldn't get past.

Damn him for getting overly caught up with Ron! Normally he'd have done like Hermione and learned more spells in his own free time. They would have been far more protective in nature than a simple unlocking charm, but still. Although to be fair he didn't expect to run into a _troll_ of all things in the beginning of the school year! It was only Halloween! The school term had just started! He'd thought that he had time to learn more from Ron about how magicals thought and more about their world before he had to defend himself against something other than a school bully! This was his own fault though. He'd let the thought that someone actually wanted to be around him get to him, and now look where he was. He knew better. The bad guys in the stories had a point, you should only keep those who are actually _useful_ by your side. Shaking his head he concentrated more on the troll. He didn't have time to get lost in thought, even if his mind was racing at incredibly fast speeds due to the adrenaline and the danger. Well, there was one good thing. He'd successfully distracted the troll from Hermione. The troll was looking at his wand warily, but didn't appear to be backing down. It knew what it was then. Maybe it did have some resistance to magic like the stories said, but at the very least, _some_ spells could affect it. After staring each other down for a few tense moments, Harry glanced over at Hermione, breaking eye contact with the troll. He only had time to catch sight of her tear–stained face before he heard the the toll bellow, raise his club, and charge.

~POV Change~

Hermione couldn't believe it. She'd been at the sink trying to wash her face and make herself look presentable when the troll had come in, as if her day hadn't already been bad enough. She'd thought that the magical world would be different, that she could make friends here. But apparently the magicals were just like normal people, the only difference was the obvious one; they had magic. She was the oddball here too. She had always been teased for studying, reading, and about her teeth. She tried to make friends, but everything she said always seemed to come out wrong. She just tried to help people and stop them from getting into trouble. Even helping them with their work didn't seem to help, as they'd accept her answers, but still tease her for being a know–it–all as soon as they were done. That was why she'd been crying for so long. It wasn't that Ron's comment was particularly hurtful, or that he was special to her in any way. She'd had worse comments from the other children in her primary school, and had been hurt by someone she'd had a crush on before as well. The real issue was that what he said brought her dreams crashing down. She'd thought that here, if nowhere else in the world, she'd be accepted. She'd always been different, even before school, and when she got her Hogwarts letter she thought being magical might explain it. That she wasn't _meant_ to fit in with muggles. But his words only drove home that she'd _never_ fit in. Not here, not anywhere. That _she_ was the problem. Something was wrong with _her_. _That_ was why she was crying, and crying all day at that.

With emotions and thoughts like those running through her mind, you can imagine how she was feeling. Feeling alone, unwanted by anyone other than her parents, but they were pretty much _obligated_ to love her. They were her parents, that didn't count. After all, you'd have to be pretty messed up to not love your own child no matter what the issue was. Despair was all she had. She'd always be alone, friendless, and while she watched all the other girls fall in love, get married, and have babies; she'd end up single, an old lady with a lot of cats. Thoughts like this are not conducive to survival in a life and death situation. Depression, even momentary, can be fatal. She had frozen up in fear when the troll arrived, but even after getting over her shock a tiny part of her had wondered if it wouldn't be better to just die here. After all, if the troll killed her at least it would be over. She wouldn't have a long life full of suffering. She wasn't really suicidal however, only depressed at the moment; so this thought was only a flickering, passing thought, that was quickly pushed aside in favor of survival. A scream issued from her mouth, probably the loudest she'd ever screamed in her life, and she only had time to think, 'No one is going to come for me,' before the monster caught sight of her. It smiled when it saw that she was alone, and as she slowly backed up into the furthest stall, images of her fast approaching death flashed through her mind. It was already a fact, it just hadn't happened yet. That was her thought. So you can imagine the surprise she felt when the door opened again, and _Harry Potter_ of all people stepped through the door.

For a moment she'd had a wild, insane thought that he had conjured the troll somehow and brought it here to kill her. Probably as revenge for her making his friend Ron feel stupid or whatever he felt instead of being glad of her trying to help him. Until he challenged it anyway. It was stupid, it was crazy, it was downright insane, and suicidally so. It the most amazing thing she'd ever seen in her life. Here he was, a small eleven year old boy, (smaller than she was even!) and yet he stood there like a knight in her stories, pointing his wand at the troll like it was a legendary magical sword, berating it for attacking a single girl, and daring it to attack him instead. It was the bravest, most romantic thing anyone had ever done. It was like something out of her mother's romance novels; and it was happening to her. For her! Her heart and her brain both felt like they were swelling up to bursting. She was going to be saved! By Harry Potter! She was going to live! The threats looked to be working, and the troll didn't seem to want to risk fighting a mage. Not one who was ready to fight back anyway. Then things changed. He probably shouldn't have insulted it's ancestors. Trolls understood human languages, and it had been looking at his wand warily until then. Once that insult came out however, it seemed to forget all hesitation and charged at him. Remembering her own wand, she gripped it tightly, ready to assist Harry in any way she could. He'd come to save her, and she was going to do her best to make sure they both got out of there alive.


	6. Chapter Five

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Chapter Five~

~End AN's – Begin Story~

Harry was amazing. He might be small, but he was _fast_, and his reflexes were unreal. The fight had been going on for ten minutes already, and the troll for all it's strength, couldn't beat an enemy that it couldn't hit. Every time it swung it's club Harry ducked, dodged, or levitated it with his wand. If he knew any offensive spells, he'd have won the fight already. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't beat an enemy that he couldn't hurt. Sooner or later he was going to get tired from dodging all the time, and then the troll would have him. For right now though, he was moving too fast for Hermione to try and help at all. She had no idea which way he or the troll would move next, so she didn't dare cast anything without risking hitting Harry. Still, at least he was keeping the troll distracted for now so she could think.

'I really should have looked more into defensive and offensive spells.' She realized. 'I didn't think I'd need those types of spells at school, but if _this_ is any indication of the kind of danger the magical world has I've been a naive fool to think I wouldn't!' She'd read about some spells useable for battle of course, her curiosity having her look up all kinds of things, but trolls were naturally resistant to magic. You either had to fight them indirectly, (banishing something at them, or other alternative methods) or use extremely powerful spells. The only spell she knew strong enough to stop the troll was the killing curse. She'd read up on that immediately after learning about Harry Potter, the Boy–Who–Lived, being the only one to ever survive it. It was one of three special spells, called "Unforgivables" and the incantation sounded almost like abracadabra, which made sense considering it's history. The one spell that muggles remembered, was the most dangerous. The pronunciation was off, but it was the closet they'd gotten to any real magic at all.

A_vra kehdabra –_ I will create as I speak. _Abhadda kedhabhra_ – Disappear like this word. _Abbada ke dabra_ – Perish like the word. All of these and more are thought to be the origin of the term abracadbra. But if avada kedavra, the killing curse, was anything to go by, it had to be one of the last two, if not both. Disappear like this word could be referring to the disappearance of the soul, or perish like the word, well that was obvious. Still, it was irrelevant. This spell could stop the troll, although it was illegal to cast. Still, it would be in self–defense, and against a troll, and the Unforgivables were _technically_ only illegal when used against humans, and even then they had to be magicals, or related to magicals if the wording of the law was anything to go by. Of course, that was the original law that she had read about when reading up on the curse and so the information was centuries old. The current law may have been changed, updated to where it was just plain illegal period, when performed on anyone, but if she had to choose between risking magical prison and dying... Well, surely they wouldn't convict her for this type of situation? Still, it'd have to be a last resort. Not to mention she'd have to be more careful than ever. If she missed the troll and hit Harry with _that_ well, Azkaban, the wizard prison, would be the least of her worries. They'd probably lynch her at best, slow torture until death finishing her off with the Dementor's Kiss was much more likely.

The only answer she could come up with was to wait. This was her ace in the hole. The only spell she knew that would be effective in this situation. She couldn't miss. She had to wait until Harry got tired and slowed down, so that she didn't hit him instead of the troll. She could only hope that when he did finally slow down, she got the troll, before the troll got _him_.

~POV Change~

His breath was coming out in forceful bursts. He heart was pounding faster than the Hogwarts Express. His fear was stronger than the time he'd performed accidental magic in _church_ of all places, and Vernon had beat him so hard and so long that he didn't think he would stop. But Harry felt none of this. He couldn't. His brain was more concerned with surviving the all too real threat of the troll to bother him with little things like sending signals of exhaustion throughout his body. The adrenaline kept him from feeling anything at all. Then it happened. While he was trying to figure out how to get in a position where the troll would have it's back to the bathroom door so that Hermione could sneak out, he stumbled. It was only for a second, but in a real battle a second is all it takes. His feet slipped and he immediately knew that he was going to die.

Time slowed. He saw troll give it's evil grin. He saw and heard Hermione scream. He saw the floor rushing to meet him, and the club swinging down to smash him. It was so slow he could have run over, grabbed Hermione, and physically dragged her out of the bathroom before even one second ticked by on a clock. But he knew that was impossible. Time hadn't slowed down. He was just so hyper aware at the moment that it just seemed like it. Then the unexpected happened. Hermione's wordless scream took on syllables. Syllables became words. Av–a Ke–a–ra. He couldn't quite make out the words, her scream was so distorted with his current perception of time, but he did recognize one thing. Eerie green light. He'd seen that light nearly every night of his life for as long as he could remember. His repeating nightmare. A scream, and a green flare. Now he was seeing it again in reality. Time stops. This time completely.

No.

An image flashes in his mind. Too fast for him to comprehend. But a part of him knows what it was.

No.

Again the image flashes in his mind. Again he rejects it.

No.

The image comes again, stronger this time, but just as quickly. Still too fast for him to consciously grasp, although deep down he remembers.

No no no.

Again, the image comes before him. This time he can barely make out the outline of a woman before it is gone.

No no no no no no no.

'I'll go crazy.' he thinks. Somewhere deep down, he knows that he can't see whatever is in his memory. That it's far too dangerous to remember.

No no no no no no no no no no no no no.

More images flash through his mind, too fast and too numerous to count. He remembers none of them, forcibly removing them from his mind.

No.

Green light turns to red.

NO.

~Flashback~

*Splat*

Wetness on his face. Red. Blood? He doesn't know. Something is wrong, but he doesn't know what. She, the woman, is important, but something is wrong. He starts to cry. The _other_ turns to face him, reaches down and touches his face. A burning sensation; The hand withdraws, and green light flares once more.

He feels a tug on his navel, though he doesn't yet know that's what it is called. A figure rises up before him, wings spread wide and...

~End Flashback~

Pain.

He feels a physical yank on his navel. Brought back to reality, time speeds up again. Something at the core of him pulls. A figure rises before him, standing tall, wings spread in all her glory. The green light misses the troll, slams harmlessly into her left wing and fizzles out. The troll freezes mid–swing, even with his limited intelligence, he knows better than to dare to attack the type of being that is currently in front of him. Unfortunately for him, his decision came too late. The lady smiles; with a single wave of her hand, the troll implodes. His skin, muscle and bones are all condensed into a vague shape that is half his original size. His blood however, has splattered everywhere, like raindrops, leaving stains of red all over the bathroom. Turning to her left the lady looks at Hermione, her clothes and hair are covered in blood from the troll's minor eruption.

"Well, this won't do. You certainly have potential, both for yourself and you could be useful for him, but I can't allow anyone to know about me just yet." Walking forward, slowly, in a way that screams sexy, yet at the same time seems dangerously predatory but unstoppable, she looks into Hermione's eyes before making her decision. "A witness _could_ be helpful for the story he's going to have to tell. Even better if he doesn't say anything, and the proof all comes from you. He's still far too vulnerable to leave on his own just yet." Raising a finger, she places it on Hermione's forehead, rewriting her memories of the last few minutes and leaving her eyes glazed over as her brain attempts to assimilate the information into her mind correctly. While Hermione is still out of it, she mutters a few words and flicks her fingers at the girl's wand. The afterimage of a deadly curse flows out of the wand and fades into nothingness. Once finished, her own form wavers into an ethereal mist that flows into Harry, who promptly passes out.

She has one final thought as she returns to her constant vigil. 'I wonder what that old fool will think of this.'


	7. Chapter Six

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Chapter Six~

**AN:** Please remember what is being said (or thought, or explained) from who's point of view. Things characters think and say aren't to always be taken as cannon fact (fannon fact I should say maybe?) for this series of mine. Remember that they are people just like you and me. They can make assumptions and they can be wrong. They **will** be wrong at times. Other times they'll be right. You never know until you know. That goes for every chapter in the story, both previous and future. Also, Ron won't be gotten rid of as a friend just yet. In the first two books he actually is a pretty good friend to Harry, despite his jealousy. It isn't until later that he starts being an idiot. Which is exactly why we all hate him for it. If he was a jerk from the start we'd just think of him as an annoying bug, like we do Malfoy. It'll be a while before he gets comfortable enough around Harry and jealous enough to go overboard and not be his friend anymore.

**AN2:** I know. Believe me, I know that the marriage contract is a super overdone cliche. But just like I'm not going to give Harry one of those ridiculous magical trunks that he almost never actuallly even uses in the stories he gets them in, I have a plan about the contract. **Trust me.** There is always a plan. And you will like it once it is fully revealed. Just wait until he gets every last detail out of her father...

~End AN's – Begin Story~

Waking Harry up wasn't as difficult as Hermione had expected, especially considering how much magic he'd just expended. She almost couldn't believe that she'd been ready to cast the killing curse, she had been right on the verge of saying the incantation when a burst of accidental magic exploded from Harry. She couldn't really explain it as anything else. He didn't use his wand, and he certainly didn't know enough about magic to perform a spell capable of destroying a troll to this extent in one hit even if he had. The stress of the situation, added to a desperate desire to survive, and still not knowing how to control his magic very well yet must have been what allowed that to happen. Still, to think he'd done this much damage and had only fainted for a few minutes! He didn't even seem too tired, it was probably shock that had knocked him out, because he was moving around like everything was fine. He didn't seem exhausted at all. He had to be extremely powerful.

She'd barely had a chance to talk to Harry before Dumbledore had rushed in, closely followed by Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. They had only confirmed that Harry had no memory of what had happened when he killed the troll. He remembered slipping, and seeing the club headed for his defenseless body, and that was it. It made sense though. A traumatic experience like that, and passing out shortly after? Maybe it was just from seeing it happen a lot in movies, but it didn't seem too far fetched to her. Of course, she wasn't a doctor, so she'd take Madam Pomfrey's opinion on that before taking anything for granted.

The sight of blood everywhere had set the professors off at first, but once they realized that none of it belonged to them, they'd calmed down somewhat; although they still couldn't figure out how accidental magic had done all this damage. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had done a bunch of diagnostic spells, even going so far as to check their wands with a _priori incantem_ (a spell that Hermione had never heard of before, one that apparently allowed the caster to see what spells had been previously cast from a magical focus like a wand or staff) before they finally accepted that it must have been accidental magic since neither student was capable of controlled wandless magic yet. That had been a huge discovery for Hermione. That wandless magic could be controlled with enough inherent skill, study, and practice was fascinating. She'd always thought that the wands were used because wandless magic was uncontrollable, that it only came out in random spurts as accidental magic. Well, for humans anyway, since her books said that other magical creatures didn't use wands, and that it was in fact illegal for them to own them. She made a mental note to start on that once she was ready, (although from what Professor Dumbledore said it wouldn't be for several years at least as you had to wait until you hit adulthood and your magical core was finished maturing or all your practice would be worthless as the very nature of your magic was constantly changing as it matured) but even that wasn't enough to keep her from watching Harry the whole time he was being looked over by Madam Pomfrey.

Harry, after all, was her savior. Her hero. He'd come rushing in, no thought to his own safety, and protected her from a troll. A creature that by all rights should have killed them both before Dumbledore had even arrived. From the humorous look in Professor McGonagall's eyes when she flew to Harry's defense as he was being questioned (more like interrogated!) by Dumbledore as to just how he'd killed the troll, the teacher obviously thought she knew something. Well, she could laugh to herself all she liked, Hermione bet that _she_ had never had anyone come running to her rescue while being so completely outclassed by the enemy like Harry had. Nobody did things like that in real life. Not unless you were important to them. You had to be important like a wife, or a child, or something like that before you could hope for a heroic rescue, and even then it might not happen. To think she'd scolded him about falling for Malfoy's obvious baiting! Obviously a person who was as heroic as Harry couldn't help it. He was too good, too noble to let a slimeball like Malfoy get away with tormenting others. Like a real hero, he obviously tried to stop injustice wherever he found it. She'd have to make sure not to be too hard on him about that in the future. He still couldn't just give in to Malfoy's ploys every time since he could get into trouble if he was ever caught, and someone like Malfoy would make sure to bait him on purpose just to get him caught, but she couldn't expect him to let it go all the time. She knew that now.

~Timeskip~

After finally being released by the professors to go to bed Harry and Hermione made their way to the Gryffindor dorms side–by–side. They were silent as they walked, Harry because he was tired and still berating himself for doing something so stupid, and Hermione because she wanted to thank Harry for saving her but wasn't quite sure how to do so. Saying, "Thanks for saving my life," just seemed too... well mundane. How do you verbalize the amount of feeling you have when someone puts their life on the line for yours? They had just reached the portrait guarding the common room when Hermione reached out and touched Harry's shoulder, stopping him before he could give the password.

"Uh, um, I just wanted, I mean," she stumbles with her words, knowing she has to say _something_, but still not having figured out exactly what.

Her words caught in her throat, and she felt ashamed that she was unable to voice her thanks; but Harry just looked at her, and gave her a soft smile before giving the password and heading up to the boys dorms no doubt ready to sleep for the night. Hermione slowly trudged up the stairs towards the girl's dorms and her own bed. Undressing slowly, lost in thought, she crawled into bed and curled up with her pillow. She lay awake for a while before drifting off, and her dreams were of a boy a little younger than herself, wearing shining armor, brandishing the famous Elder wand, and wielding a mythical sword, fighting gryphons, chimera, and dragons to keep her from harm.

~Timeskip~

The next morning the great hall was abuzz with the news that the Boy–Who–Lived had slain the invading troll. Dumbledore had sworn Harry and Hermione to secrecy on the details about the troll, but had seen fit to make an announcement that Harry had been the one to find and slay it, saving a fellow student in the process. He then awarded him 200 house points for risking his life to save another.

Owls were flying all over, heading to magical communities all over Britain, carrying the news from the students to their parents, other relatives, and friends. More than one girl gave Harry an appraising look as he walked by on his way to the Gryffindor table, and several of the girls in the higher years had made a space for him to sit with them. He didn't really want to make a spectacle of himself, but when you're eleven, going into puberty a little early, and several very pretty, very _developed_ girls ambush you and start talking too fast for you to follow, you end up being dragged along with them before you even realize what exactly is happening. Before Harry knew what was going on, he'd been seated, had a full plate pushed in front of him, and was being questioned faster than he could hope to answer. Fortunately, someone was looking out for him.

"Now now ladies, I'm sure you all want to know how Mr. Potter defeated the troll, but perhaps it would be best to let him eat in peace. This isn't the time, or the place for idle gossip." Harry looked up to see Professor Quirrell there, giving him an opening to escape from inside the circle of breasts. "Besides, Professor Dumbledore has sworn Harry to secrecy on the subject, and so he couldn't tell you even if he wanted to. Not to mention that your head of house doesn't look like she's going to tolerate your flirtatious behaviors for much longer." He remarked, nodding his head slightly to a fuming McGonagall. His stutter, which had apparently been caused by some sort of magical illness, was gone, having been cured by one of Professor Snape's potions. He reached out to give Harry a hand up, but quickly withdrew it as he saw Harry getting up on his own. It was a good thing too, as Harry had been feeling a strange sense of danger the closer that hand had gotten to him. He didn't understand it, but he always had a strange feeling of unease whenever he looked at Professor Quirrell, and while he hadn't been able to pin it down yet, it was strong enough that he was wary of him even though he had no logical proof that there was any danger from him. Still, Harry was grateful for the assistance, as he had no interest in these girls (beyond physical) since they only seemed to want to get close to the Boy–Who–Lived. After all, you didn't see them talking to any _other_ first years.

"That said," Professor Quirrell whispered to Harry, "we Professors are not included in the group of people you cannot speak to about this. If you need to talk about it, or have any questions you want to ask, my office is always available to you Mr. Potter."

~POV Change~

Daphne Greengrass was in the owlery alone, just putting the finishing touches on a letter to her father about the events of Halloween night. While it did contain complaints that she had not been able to celebrate Samhain in the traditional manner, which would no doubt cost her some respect among her friends and allies in the other realms, it also contained the details of why. A troll invading Hogwarts was unprecedented! There weren't any troll lands anywhere near the castle, and even if this was some stray troll that was wandering for some unknown reason, and somehow managed to avoid every magical and non–magical settlement in between their lands and here, there were _wards_ for that sort of thing! Not even dragons or dementors could just waltz onto the grounds, let alone get into the castle itself without being let in! Not without taking down the defensive wards, and that could only be done by the current headmaster, a member of the board, or a very powerful, very talented wizard. Talented because taking down the wards without alerting any of the custodians of the castle to the danger was a very difficult act. One that required the precision of a... well... something with a lot precision that's what! Her father just _had_ to know about this before it was in the next day's Daily Prophet, or before he was told about it by one of his friends or allies after they received a letter from their children.

Knowledge was power, after all. That's why Daphne had gone to an empty classroom and cast a scrying spell on Harry as soon as she'd heard about the whole thing. Listening to him talk to Granger about it, she knew more than anyone else in the castle other than the professors. She knew that the troll hadn't just been killed, he'd been imploded, whatever that meant. It was probably a muggle word, one that her father would look up as soon as he got his hands on a muggle dictionary. She also knew that it was accidental magic that had done it. There wasn't any record of accidental magic killing _anyone_ before. Well, it was speculated that it was accidental magic that not only saved Harry Potter from the killing curse, but had turned said curse back on it's caster, but that was only speculation. No one _really_ knew what the cause was. These extra details she had carefully written down exactly as she heard them through her hand mirror, knowing that her father would want to know everything, as well as how she had obtained the information, so he would know it wasn't just rumor.

Satisfied that she had gleaned enough of what had _really_ happened instead of the rumors that were going to be flying throughout the country by midday, she sealed the letter and sent it off with a Hogwarts owl. No sooner had she done so however, than her father's personal owl flew in, carrying a letter addressed to her. She took it immediately, wondering what he could be writing her about, since he couldn't possibly know about the troll already, when she discovered something that made her face go red with rage. Thankfully, her "Ice Queen" moniker was more than just a name. Forcing her emotions down, she continued reading the letter, hoping for some explanation as to _why_ her father would–

"Oh." Well, that explained a lot. Realizing that he really hadn't had much choice, and knowing that her father was one of the few in on the greatest secret of the century, and that sooner or later _she_ would also be brought in on it... She skipped her first class that day and thought long and hard before addressing a short note to Harry Potter, informing him that she needed to speak to him later that week, alone, and that it would explain many things, including the troll.

~Timeskip & POV Change~

The next few days were relatively uneventful. Hermione stuck to Harry like a second shadow, but her presence wasn't unwelcome. Okay, so the truth was that it had been irritating beyond belief at first, and he'd snapped at her more than a few times, but he got used to her. Besides he couldn't keep pushing his anger at himself onto her. She wasn't the one who'd gone and made the stupid decision to go up against a troll on her own. He hadn't had to go looking for her himself, he could have easily spoken up about her being missing to one of the teachers, or even a prefect. He knew that he wasn't angry about her shadowing him, that he was really angry at himself for doing something so stupidly heroic. Sure he'd survived, he'd soundly defeated the beast even, but that wasn't the point. There was nothing wrong with being a hero, as long as you were Superman. Being a hero if you were Batman meant you were an idiot. Without superpowers, there was nothing stopping the villains from killing you instead of you putting them in jail. Technology could fail, and you could always make a mistake. Superman was invulnerable. Batman was human. One mistake could mean his life.

Harry was angry at himself for taking such a risk when he knew better. Getting caught up in the moment was no excuse. Taking his anger out on Hermione wasn't fair, and he knew it. Even though he could tell that she had some hero worship going on, it wasn't as annoying as with the others because this time he actually _did_ something to deserve it. Well, it also helped that even though she was with him everywhere she wasn't some simpering fool throwing herself at him every chance she got (which had only gotten worse with his rising status as the Hogwarts quidditch star in addition to all his other feats). She'd still scold him for not following rules, and sometimes for not studying as much as she thought he should, (Harry studied quite a bit, but he had to get out _sometimes_) but she was a lot better in how she did it. The fact that she was also an excellent researcher didn't hurt of course. Anytime Harry would look for something that he felt he needed to know, Hermione would almost always find the information first, then proceed to give him a list of cross–references for any pertinent information that she thought he might need. Pushing her away when she could help him achieve his goal of being magically self sufficient seemed rather foolish.

Ron had been ashamed at himself for running away, especially in light of Harry managing to defeat the troll on his own, but he'd gotten over that quickly. It helped that he had gone and gotten Dumbledore, which if Harry hadn't killed the troll already would have saved their lives. He and Hermione still didn't get along, but they tolerated each other for Harry. In fact their fights became more of a friendly bickering over time as they grew used to each other, although Ron would still take things too far and make Hermione cry once in a while. Whenever that happened Harry would end up going after her to try and help her feel better and Ron would stay away from them for a few days until things had blown over. This week was just such an occasion.

Harry and Hermione were walking along the Hogwarts grounds. It was nice out, probably one of the last days of good weather before the winter fully hit and it got too cold to enjoy a walk. They'd gotten used to walking along the lake, and through the lightly wooded areas that were on the sprawling acres of land that surrounded the castle. Harry had wanted to explore the Forbidden Forest, but Hermione had outright refused, saying that not only was it off limits, but that it's very _name_ had the word forbidden in it, so it just _had_ to be dangerous. Harry had agreed, but only by getting her to submit to exploring it once they were older and knew more magic that they could use to protect themselves if necessary. They were currently talking about the differences between the wizarding and muggle worlds, and deciding what things they would keep from the muggle world once they'd grown up and had homes of their own. Ron was absent but it had only been two days since Ron had last made Hermione cry, so it was surprising to both Harry and Hermione when he came running up to them with an excited look on his face. "Harry! Who are you taking?" he asked, face flushed with exertion.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in confusion before they decided to just ask. "What are you talking about Ronald? Taking where?" Hermione said, sure that Ron was about to get Harry caught up in yet another one of his harebrained ideas.

"You haven't heard? We're all going to be allowed to take a trip to Diagon Alley to get Christmas gifts for our friends! We get to leave the school!" Ron couldn't believe that they didn't know about this already. He knew that he wouldn't be able to afford to really buy anything for anyone and _he_ knew about it. He couldn't wait to see what Harry got him for Christmas. "The only thing is that we have to pair off so that we're with at least one other student at all times. Well, that and we can't go into Knockturn Alley. That's the bad side of town."

"Oh, that." said Harry, remembering hearing about this sometime earlier in the week. "Actually I was going to take Hermione. There aren't many other muggle–born here that I know half as well, and I'd like to see what she thinks about some of the things I noticed the last time I was there. The only two people I could really think of pairing up with are you and her, and you can go with your brothers. Not to be mean, but as far as I know, me and you are Hermione's only friends here so far." He turned his head towards Hermione and offered her an apologetic half–smile. "I still don't see why none of the other girls in Gryffindor seem to like you very much Hermione."

'That's because they're all jealous that _they_ weren't the ones rescued by the Boy–Who–Lived and got to be his single best female friend.' she thought to herself, the girls had all been laughing at her in the beginning when Harry would snap at her, telling her to stop following him around everywhere but now that he'd accepted her into his "personal circle" they burned with envy. In fact, now that she thought about it, the first time he'd actually asked her to come with him somewhere had been after one particularly mean Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, had teased her about being his little pet mudblood who always followed her master around like a dog (in much worse language, and with several more rude comments that Hermione didn't care to remember) while Harry was right there. Before that it had always been done when he wasn't around to see it.

How ironic that she had only been trying to make sure that if he ever needed her help she'd be there to give it, as repayment for him saving her life, _not_ being a lovesick puppy, (at least not since the first time he'd snapped at her, breaking her from her romantic illusions) and now thanks to the very people who tried to make her miserable, she had found a true friend. That's what no one seemed to realize about Harry. He was hard to get through to, he kept this... _wall_ of indifference around him for some reason; but once you were in, you couldn't find a better person to have on your side. Pansy's teasing had been opened a crack in his wall that had allowed her to get closer to him, and she couldn't be more grateful. Now she was falling for him all over again. She knew it was cliche the good girl falling for the boy with anger issues and a tortured soul, but she couldn't really help it. Harry was just... well Harry. And she had to admit that there was still a _little_ hero worship thrown in there too from the troll, now that she knew he wasn't a jerk, just a loner who was uncomfortable around people if they got too close. He could pretend really well, no one _else_ could tell that being around others made him jumpy and irritable, but she knew.

Still, Hermione could not believe that Harry thought she and Ron were friends. She'd thought that anyone with eyes could tell that they were like a snake and a mongoose. (People said that they fought like cats and dogs, but she had seen dogs and cats that were raised together get along just fine, so she couldn't call that analogy accurate.) But a visit to Diagon Alley would be good. She could look up books on several magics she had learned about. Occlumency for one thing. It would take them years to learn, and so they wouldn't be able to use it proficiently until at least their 4th or 5th year even if they started learning it right away, but it was better to start sooner than later. Apparently occlumency required you to actually _think_ differently. That would be hard enough to learn as a child, but changing your way of thinking only got harder as a person got older. Not to mention that the only way to know if they were any good at it would be to have their defenses tested by someone who knew legilimency and that would _definitely_ be better at a young age. The older you got, the more things you had to hide, even if they were only personal, private, or embarrassing memories and nothing actually bad. She'd talked to Harry about this, and while he was _very_ interested in learning how to protect his mind, knowing that he had to actually invite someone to attack it as a test was hard for him to agree to. She could only imagine how hard it would be if they hadn't learned about this until he was grown and had more things to keep private!

Ron and Harry were still going on about the things they should buy. Well, Ron was talking, Harry was mostly just listening and nodding wherever appropriate. He didn't really seem to be paying much attention, not that Ron noticed. Ron was just about to launch into the details of the new quidditch themed chess set, where the pieces were represented by famous quidditch players, with the king being the seeker, the queen being the keeper, and the knights beaters, normal players for rooks and bishops, with the pawns being represented by commentators, when Harry saw Daphne Greengrass standing in the trees.

"Sorry Ron," he said, "but I need to talk to Hermione about something. I'll talk to you in our dorm later okay?"

"Huh?" Ron said, not understanding what could be more important that a mixture of chess, _and_ quidditch, the two most amazing things in the world.

"Well," Harry began, knowing that he'd need to be diplomatic about this or Ron would never leave, and this needed to stay private, "Professor McGonagall mentioned these books about transfiguration that–

That was all it took for Ron to agree to talk later where Hermione couldn't interrupt his two sacred subjects with talk about _books_ of all things. After standing and watching him run off, no doubt to tell someone else about the new quidditch chess set, Harry looked around surreptitiously, ensuring that no one else was about before he took Hermione by the arm and led her over to the grove where Daphne stood waiting.

"What are we doing here?" Hermione asked. "And why is she here if you wanted to talk to me about something?" she said, gesturing towards Daphne.

"I could ask _you_ the same thing," the famed "Ice Queen" of Slytherin said with narrowed eyes. Turning her head to Harry her voice held tones of thinly held anger. "I thought this meeting was supposed to be private."

Both of them were looking at Harry, waiting for an answer. "I received a note from Daphne asking her to meet me privately, and an enclosed letter from her father. It said that he hoped that I intended to honor the bargain my parents made with him. Daphne's note said that it had to do with the troll." he explained to Hermione. "And as for Hermione's presence," he said, looking Daphne in the eyes, "she was there when I killed the troll. Whatever you want to discuss, she already knows."

Daphne sighed in exasperation wondering if she should tell him that it was far more involved than just the troll. She thought about it for several minutes before deciding that it wasn't worth the argument. If Potter thought he could trust the Granger girl, then he'd just end up telling her anyway. At least this way she would know just what Granger knew, and be able to answer any questions the girl had before she got things twisted with her muggle ideas. "I don't know all the details myself, all I know is that our families made some sort of arrangement during the war with You–Know–Who. My family couldn't keep its neutrality going much longer without being targeted by Death Eaters and being labeled blood–traitors, and yours was in hiding from the Dark Lord. You father contacted mine, looking for some kind of information that my father had. My father gave yours that information, an in exchange..." here she drifted off, not wanting to accept it herself. "...in exchange, if their plan succeeded, our families were to be joined."

"Joined!"

"What!"

Two voices exclaimed in tandem. Who said what was irrelevant. All that mattered was the surprise on both the listeners faces. Daphne quickly interrupted, knowing that if she didn't this could get out of hand.

"There wasn't much choice! You–Know–Who was killing everyone in his way! Your parents may have been hidden by a Fidelius charm, but that hadn't protected the Longbottom family, and it was known that he was out for both families exclusively in those last days. They were desperate, and so they agreed to anything if it meant it might keep you alive."

Harry's eyes narrowed and his voice grew quiet. "And just why did your family decide to "join" with mine? Why were they so desperate to do so that they'd take advantage of my parents like that? Just what does the Greengrass family get out of all of this?" This was what he'd been afraid of. That there would be things that he didn't know, and wasn't prepared for. The Dursley's had taken everything from him, but they couldn't take his free will. He might get beaten for doing things, but he could _choose_ to do them and get beaten, or not do them and slide by. Magical contracts, on the other hand, (and this situation sounded like the type where there might be one) were another thing entirely. There was a class for muggleborn children that taught them about some of the laws and traditions that they wouldn't know not having been raised in the magical world. They'd covered marriage contracts only last week. No doubt Lord Greengrass had waited until after the class was taught to let Harry know about this one on purpose. The worst part was, in a magical contract, unless both sides decided to cancel the deal, there was no choice involved in fulfilling it. No solicitor to pay to go petition to have the contract voided, or ruled illegal after investigation by a judge. _Any_ agreement made was valid, no matter how unfair or what duress one side was under. A contract didn't care about any details that weren't contained in the contract itself. Harry would be compelled to complete his half of the bargain, so long as the other party had completed theirs. Normally he couldn't be entered into a deal without his consent, but considering it had been his birth parents who did so, and that the deal had been to save his life, (if Daphne's father was to be believed) there was probably some kind of exception that allowed his parents to bind his magic to the contract without his consent.

"That I do know. What we wanted is nothing sinister, I promise you. You see, the ministry was going to make us hand over our family grimories, having decided that dark magical knowledge was too dangerous to be kept in the hands of normal citizens. They thought that the only way to keep more Dark Lords from rising up was to contain all dark magical knowledge in the Ministry with the Unspeakables, used for defensive and research purposes only." She shook her head at the idea. "But that would only happen to those who admitted to having dark tomes! There would be plenty of families that no one knew had the knowledge. Giving it away would be suicidal! Not when keeping it had been the only thing keeping us safe as long as we had been during the war. Yes our safety was wearing thin, but it would have been gone long before if not for our knowledge of dark spells and rituals! Your family on the other hand, if they succeeded in defeating He–Who–Must–Not–Be–Named, would be trusted. No one would even consider confiscating the grimories belonging to the House of Potter. Not after taking down the Dark Lord himself. You, and therefore your house, would be trusted as no other outside of the ministry excepting Dumbledore himself. They would expect you to want to know about dark magic and rituals, just so that you could stop anyone else who attempted to become a Dark Lord even easier the next time. Our family's magic would remain our own."

"So you're going to use me then. And if there is a contract, I have no choice, right?" Harry said, visions of the girls who were already flirting shamelessly with him (even those in much higher years) due to his title, his fame, and his wealth turning his voice low and cold. "You're just another girl after me for what I am rather than who I am. Slightly different this time, but still the same. You disgust me."

Daphne's face colored instantly. Not in shame, but anger.

"How _dare_ you!" she hissed, the blood leaving her face and taking on the look that gave her the title "Ice Queen" even though she was only a few months into her first year. "I could care less about you! You think I want your title? My family is a Most Ancient and Most Noble House all on it's own! I have my own money, my own lands, and my own servants if I wish them. You are _nothing_ to me." she paused only to take a breath before continuing. "This deal was put into place by our fathers, mine _and_ yours! Your father is the one who initiated it! He came to us begging, pleading with everything he had to save your _life!_ And even _if_ it had been the other way around, _I_ had nothing to do with it! If you think I want my future husband to be some malnourished, pint–sized, four–eyed, scarred _freak_ who doesn't know anything about anything, you're an arrogant self–centered bastard! I came here _hoping_ that you might at least be a halfway decent person, and that we could at least try and get along since we're _both_ stuck with this, but apparently Professor Snape was right about you. Your fame has gone to your head." And with she spun on her heel, and stormed off before either Harry or Hermione, both shocked at her quick rebuttal, could gather their wits fast enough to say anything.


	8. Chapter Seven

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Chapter Seven~

**AN:** Don't worry, I'm not going to do the cliche Harry has a million and one different vaults, that can be proven by a blood test that he happens to request (or get notified of) upon speaking to a random goblin. Harry will _eventually_ gain access to a few vaults other than his own, but they will be limited in quantity, as well as having rational reason behind it. Also, don't expect Griphook to suddenly take on some role that makes him Harry's "goblin contact" of sorts. There is no reason to suddenly promote Griphook from cart driver to account manager. If Griphook had the talent for that job he'd have been promoted to it on his own merits.

Giving your fortune over to be managed by someone who doesn't know the job will usually end up in the investor going broke. Not to mention that it wasn't as if Harry knew the goblin. Sure, Harry had met him the last time he'd come to the bank, but it was just like any other place of business. Griphook was one of many workers and Harry was one of many customers. Just because Griphook was the _first_ goblin Harry had ever had a conversation with, didn't mean that he was the _only_ goblin he'd ever do business with. It's a stupid and lazy way of using a pre–made character so that you don't have to come up with your own. Griphook is a cart driver, and he will remain one. And no, Harry isn't going to suddenly become a "goblin–friend" just because he's polite. He might get a little extra service, but they won't treat him like a VIP just because he treats them like everyone should. So don't expect him to suddenly become best friends with Ragnok (or Ragnar or whatever his name is) either.

On a totally different note, in my planning of how exactly things are going to go, I have come to realize that I simply can't cover every single plot–hole that Rowling left in the books. There is just so much that contradicts itself, (especially once you start looking at things with a world view rather than just little things in one person's life, things like entire countries and societies, and belief systems) that it doesn't make any sense. So, while I will keep having this fic make sense, some things (rules and other such things) are just going to _have_ to change. Which rules I'm not sure, which people I'm not sure, as I have multiple ways of doing what I want to do, but you'll see as it happens. So when I change a character, or what that character knows, don't bother leaving a review just to tell me that they are OOC. I know. It just has to be done if there is to be any logic in this at all, unless I want to contradict myself and make half–a–dozen plot holes just to make the story background the way I want it. And I'm not going to do that. It's too hypocritical.

~End AN's – Begin Story~

It was four days later and Harry was still getting cold looks from Daphne whenever he saw her. Hermione had told him that he shouldn't have snapped at her so quickly without getting more information and that he should probably apologize as soon as possible. She said that he should wait a little while to let her cool down, but not too long or the anger she felt would settle into her and not go away. That wouldn't be good for either of them if they really were stuck together forever. He'd planned on only waiting a day, but the only time he seemed to see Daphne was in potions, and Snape wasn't the type of teacher to just let Harry walk over to one of the Slytherin tables and talk as he pleased. Not to mention that it wasn't exactly private and he was sure that Daphne wouldn't appreciate everyone knowing that they were betrothed. Not right now anyway. He could already imagine how it would be for her in Slytherin if the rest of her house found out.

He had to talk to Daphne today. They were going to Diagon Alley tomorrow, and he wanted to bring her and Hermione together. Daphne, because Diagon Alley would be one of the few places they could talk without the other students noticing since they'd all be busy doing their own thing and there would also be plenty of other people around, allowing Harry to blend into the crowd (so long as he kept his scar covered up) and because there would no doubt be a copy of the contract in his vault as it was custom for all parties involved to have their own personal copy for reference. Having a physical copy to look at together they would be able to try and find any loopholes allowing them to get out of this arrangement, especially since Daphne didn't appear to want anything to do with it either. This is why he considered himself lucky when he managed to run into Tracey Davis, a known friend of Daphne's, in the halls alone. Giving her a sealed letter, requesting that she deliver it to Daphne privately, was the best he could do as Daphne would avoid him whenever she saw him. He'd avoided mentioning anything in particular, hoping that he'd been vague enough in case she looked at the letter beforehand, while doing his best to convey his apologies and hopes to go on the coming trip together. After which, he set his mind to his next issue, Hermione.

Hermione had been strangely distant the last few days. Aside from the advice she had given him about Daphne, she hadn't been around anywhere near as much as usual. She still helped him as best she could when asked, and she didn't exactly _avoid_ him per say, she just... wasn't around. It was strange how fast he'd gotten used to her presence, and how odd it now felt whenever she was gone without reason. He found himself constantly looking to his side, (her usual position) only to be disappointed when she wasn't there. He'd go to ask her opinion on something that had occurred to him and find her missing. It was uncomfortable, both that she wasn't there, and that he was actually _missing_ her.

Harry wasn't used to missing anyone, and missing someone to him felt like being weak. He was used to thinking of himself as a loner, both by habit and by choice, someone who preferred being alone, and thought that it'd be easy enough to go back to it once he no longer needed her. The thought that he might actually want to be around someone left him vulnerable to them. They could always pick up and leave whenever they wanted after all. The whole thing was completely unprecedented, and more than just uncomfortable, it was scary. It was far easier for Harry to end up convincing himself that he wasn't _missing_ Hermione per say, just that he'd gotten used to her constant presence, and so _of course_ he was feeling a little off without her around. Anybody in a situation different from normal would be expected to be not quite at ease after all. It was just a matter of adapting. He'd adapted to her presence, and he could just as easily adapt back, but for now she was still useful, so it was far better to figure out what was causing her absence and fix it, than to allow her to continue this madness.

It was with this in mind that Harry went to the second floor girls bathroom, where they had fought the troll. It was one of Hermione's favorite places to go when she was upset.

~Timeskip~

Talking with Hermione had straightened a lot of things out. She'd apparently been distancing herself from Harry so as not to appear to be "moving in" on him. He was betrothed after all. Harry had been confused at first, not sure how a twelve year old girl being his friend could appear as if she was "moving in" on Daphne and his "relationship" at all, considering their age, the fact that they'd been friends beforehand, and the fact that he and Daphne didn't _have_ a "relationship" regardless of the contract, since neither one had seen it yet to know if it was unbreakable after all. Especially since he wasn't dating Hermione and hadn't had any romantic thoughts about her at all, and he was sure she didn't have any for him. The poor boy didn't realize that he was just hurting her feelings more with every word since she'd had romantic ideas about the two of them the entire time. He also didn't know that girls often started thinking about these things far sooner than boys (actual relationships, not just sexual thoughts) and that finding out that Daphne was Harry's betrothed had crushed her dreams.

Still, once he had assured her that he fully intended to do his best to find a loophole, or find some way to get Daphne's father to agree to mutually dismiss the contract, Hermione was all bright eyes, smiles and most surprisingly, hugs. The smiles confused Harry, and for a moment he'd started to wonder if Hermione had in fact wanted some kind of relationship with him, as he was her hero, but all thoughts to this end flew out of his mind when she hugged him.

~POV Change~

This is where I, Lord Sirius Harrison James Potter–Black, have to interject to fully explain the situation. You, the reader of this tale must take a moment to put yourself in my father's position. Harry had never been hugged before, not even once. At least, not as far as he could remember. Any hugs he'd received had been given him by his parents, and he certainly couldn't remember anything from those early days. He'd _seen_ hugs before of course, Petunia hugged Dudley all the time, Vernon as well, though less so, and he'd seen other people do the same to those they "cared" about. He'd also seen such behavior in movies that had been shown in his muggle school before he came to Hogwarts. That didn't matter.

Seeing something is one thing. Experiencing it is another thing altogether. Harry had never expected anyone to "care" about him, not even slightly. As such he'd never expected to be on the receiving end of any type of affectionate gestures that weren't false ploys to fool him for some reason or another. However, Hermione had never lied to him, not once. He didn't think she _could_ lie to him. It was against her nature. That, and the act had been so sudden, so fast that it was as if it had been _instinctual_, and the hug itself so _fierce_, that had no choice but to believe that it was real. Still, to Harry, receiving a real hug was just as unlikely as Godzilla suddenly showing up to battle King Kong in the Forbidden Forest, all while Martians suddenly attacked from space, causing Cthulhu to awaken from his slumber and defend the world he considered his own from invasion by servants of an alien god.

You may not have thought of this, but the truth is that it is not _what_ happens that causes a person to go into one of the various stages of shock, but rather the sheer disbelief that it _actually has_ happened that causes shock on any level. It is the mind trying to completely reject the reality in front of it. That is one of the very definitions of being shocked. Seeing, or being a part of, a sudden event that was previously deemed so highly improbable, as to never even be considered, even subconsciously, if it was not previously considered totally impossible. The belief that no one ever had, or ever would, care about him in any way other than how his existence could affect them, was so deeply ingrained in Harry that his mind went blank as it tried to reconcile what it was experiencing with what it _knew for a fact_ was _impossible_.

~POV Change~

Hermione was hugging Harry fiercely. She hadn't intended to, having never invaded Harry's personal space like that before, but finding out that he was going to try and have the contract dissolved was so surprising, and made her so happy, that she couldn't help it. Daphne was their age, only eleven, and so she hadn't developed in any way yet, but she had excellent bone structure. Her face was almost elfin in it's beauty. As long as she didn't get horribly fat, (and there were probably spells for that) even if she didn't get completely awesome breasts or hips, she'd still be stunningly beautiful when she got older. She was one of those rare children where such a thing wasn't merely speculation, but a fact.

Hermione had no illusions that Harry had decided to do so because of _her_, she wasn't that foolish after all. She recognized that Harry had a wall around him and his emotions. Her aunt worked in child services, so she'd heard enough stories to know that anyone with his personality had probably grown up with some form of abuse to make him as distant to other people and his emotions as he was, but she was still the only person he'd let into his walls. Ron he tolerated, but he still hadn't let him in, not really, (although she couldn't really blame him considering it was _Ron_) and even if other girls tried, they wouldn't find it easy to get in either. She'd lucked out. Harry had been introduced to a whole new world, one that was so different from his usual one that his defenses had been temporarily lowered (whether on purpose or not she didn't know) and through sheer chance, she'd managed to slip in before he could raise them again completely. If anyone had a chance at getting Harry to open up and fall in love with them it was her. What did surprise her however, was his reaction to her hug.

Harry froze, and Hermione instantly knew she'd made a mistake of some kind. Before she could ask him what was wrong, Harry jerked out of her arms and backed away, confusion, fear, and anger swirling in his eyes. Before she could say anything he mastered himself just enough to mutter that he had to go, and ran off.

~Timeskip~

Harry was confused, and still quite a bit scared, so he'd run into his dorm, and sat on his bed with the curtains drawn. He knew what had been done, but he didn't understand _why_. He also didn't understand his reaction to it. There had been an unbearable pressure in his chest, and emotions that he didn't know he still possessed, emotions that he had made a _conscious effort_ to get rid of, had swirled around in his gut, and he'd actually been about to _cry_ of all the ridiculous things. Even now, just _remembering_ the act and how it felt caused the feelings to well back up inside him. Not quite as strong, but still how could a simple hug affect him so?

Harry decided that he had to think about this logically. He knew what a hug was. He might have never expected to be on the receiving end of one, but he knew what they were. You couldn't _not_ know what a hug was unless you never left your house, and hugs never happened inside it where you could see. Did Hermione think she was his _friend_? He considered her an acquaintance. A _useful_ acquaintance to be sure, and one that was actually pleasant to be around, but a friend? He didn't have friends. Friends were people you trusted. Harry might trust her to an extent, but he didn't know if he'd call it friendship. Sure, he'd say she was his friend if anyone asked, but that was just because you didn't go around calling people your "acquaintances", it was rude. Of course, it was certainly possible that she counted him as a friend even if he didn't count her as one. It's not like deciding that someone was your friend was something both parties had to agree on. In that context, he could understand her giving him a hug, maybe, but he still couldn't understand his emotional response to the hug.

It was a long while before Harry made his decision. He had to just continue acting as normal, and hope Hermione didn't hug him again in the meantime while he figured things out. He was tempted to just stay away from Hermione until he'd figured things out more, but the trip to Diagon Alley was tomorrow, and like it or not, Hermione knew more about the magical world than he did, despite being a muggle–born, since she could read faster than he did, and most of what he looked up was for attack and defense rather than just normal background information. He could always go back and invite Ron, but Ron wasn't exactly a logical thinker, not to mention that he'd think Harry was insane to even try and get out of a marriage contract with one of the prettiest girls in their year. And if there _was_ a way out of a contract, it would be due to some slippery language, and that was more Hermione's forte than Ron's on her worst day and his best. He could ask Daphne, but he didn't exactly know her, and even if there was a way out, she never agreed to find it with him. He _hoped_ she would, but there was every possibility that even if she saw one, she wouldn't take it out of loyalty to her father. Sure she seemed like she wasn't exactly thrilled to be stuck with him, but it didn't mean she'd use any loophole she saw to get out of it. From what little he'd seen so far pure–bloods were raised very differently than muggles. It was more like they did in the far past, (which made sense considering how long wizards lived, 5 generations for muggles was only 1 or two for them depending on how powerful they were so there was no reason to be surprised that they were behind the times on almost everything they did) where oaths and family loyalties meant a lot more than people today would realize.

Part of Harry wanted to berate magical society for being so far behind, but in all fairness he couldn't. It took muggles a lot of generations to get to where they were today, and they still were far from perfect. If you looked at how many generations of muggles there were from the beginning until now, and then considered how much less generations there were for magicals in the same amount of time, it was downright _admirable_ that they were _this_ far along! You couldn't expect them to be any better at changing than anyone else, being magical had nothing to do with that, and yet they were only behind in their customs by a few hundred years! That took a concentrated effort to learn, and he could only imagine how hard it was to learn from the very muggles they considered inferior. It was no doubt helped along by a slow, but steady influx of muggle–born mages that would bring ideas to the culture. Many of these ideas were things that they took for granted, spoiled as they were with things like equal schooling, a much greater lack of racism, and fairness being pushed in their society. He'd heard more than one student call the blood purists "bigots" but was it really bigotry when it was something you were taught from birth, that you honestly _believed_? Even worse, it might be true. They never said pure–bloods were smarter, or anything like that, just that they had better magic than muggle–born mages. It was certainly _possible_. For all the muggle–born had complained about it, none of them seemed to have actually _tested_ it to find out if it was true or not, they just decided that it had to be false, as if life was intrinsically fair or something. But they considered themselves better than those spouting blood purity who hadn't shown any proof, when they did the exact same thing only on the opposite side of the fence. Honestly, it was even worse for them to do so than the pure–bloods. Harry remembered learning the scientific method in primary (elementary) school, so he knew the process for discovering facts. He hadn't heard of anything like that being taught here, so he doubted the magicals had a specific method of proving their findings. Who was more at fault? The child who didn't know any better, or the adult who _did_ but performed the same actions as the child?

This was probably why the magical world had stopped learning from the muggle–born a few hundred years ago. With the advent of technology, muggles, and thereby also muggle–born mages, were getting lazy and expected everything handed to them on a platter. It was evident even in muggle society. Foreigners from third world countries worked far harder, for far less pay, while those born in first world countries acted as if they were above certain jobs, entitled to everything, and had a grossly inflated value of their own worth. Very few he knew had any real work ethic, or had any respect for anyone. If the trend didn't stop, their society was going to get worse instead of better, and the magicals couldn't be faulted for not learning from people they saw as lazy, indulgent, expectant, ungrateful fools. Sure, magic made things easy just like technology, but you still had to put forth personal effort. You had to learn the spell, or make it yourself. You had to put your own magical energy into it, and that could exhaust you if you didn't work your magic like a muscle. Magic took _effort_, it wasn't as simple as people thought. Technology made things as easy as the press of a button, all you had to do was find one thing you were good at, do _only_ that one thing professionally, and you could make money to get everything else you sucked at done by machines. There needed to be some kind of balance, or nothing would work in the end.

Before Harry knew it, it was time for bed. Between the hours of self–reflection after the hug, and the time he'd spent contemplating the problems with society, both magical and muggle, his free time had slipped away, and he still didn't know how he'd gone from one thing to the other. So he hunkered down in his bed, hoped that Daphne would agree to his proposed joint excursion to Diagon Alley with Hermione present, and that Hermione would forgive him reacting to her hug as he had in the latrine.

Harry had another dream that night, Quirrell's turban was talking to him again, but this time a winged demonic looking woman threw some kind of muffle on it before it insisted that he go into Slytherin House. After which, she turned and gave him a smile before walking slowly and seductively toward him. She had only just gotten up to face, about to kiss him, when the dream ended. Of course, he didn't remember this dream either.

~Timeskip~

Diagon Alley was crowded. Many muggle parents had shown up, eager to see their children while they were out of school, as Diagon Alley was the one part of magical society muggle family members were allowed to see and enter. Well, other than the school of course, but that was only in extreme circumstances, if a child had been severely injured or some such. A parent _was_ allowed to see the school before determining whether or not their child could go, but only if they agreed to have their memory wiped of all the details of said school after making their decision. It wouldn't do to have their muggle families knowing too much about magic after all. It was inevitable that they would know _something_ but it needed to be limited.

The trip started out okay. Harry had both Daphne and Hermione with him, although Daphne had demanded a good _sincere_ apology first, and Harry had almost forgotten to get his vault key. Dumbledore had given it to him, but only after a warning to not spend too much on gifts, as even with large amounts of wealth, the only way to stay wealthy was to utilize the money properly. He encouraged him to buy some things, but not to go overboard. He also warned him about taking anything other than money out of his vault, but Harry hadn't seen anything else the first time he'd gone in so he tucked that knowledge away into the back of his mind for when he was at Gringotts.

Upon arriving at the wizarding bank, Harry immediately went to the nearest available counter for assistance. "Excuse me, but I'd like to take a cart down to my vault please."

It didn't take long for him to be escorted to his vault. Daphne requested a waiting room for her and Hermione to sit in while he went through his personal finances. Hermione looked as if she had been about to go with him, but after hearing Daphne say "personal finances" she hesitated before deciding to remain behind as well. Harry didn't really care one way or the other, but the tensions between the three of them were high enough already, and Daphne might have wanted to talk to Hermione alone about something anyway.

~Timeskip~

His vault was the same as ever. There were piles of gold, silver, and bronze. Harry doubted if he could spend it all if he tried. Daphne and Hermione were waiting for him in one of the waiting rooms. Daphne could have entered the vault, considering she was his fiance but if Harry was going to try and get out of it, then it wouldn't be proper for her to know what was inside his vault. Hermione waited as well, both to keep Daphne company, and to give Harry his privacy. Your personal finances were just that, personal. Not that Harry cared. As far as he could tell, there wasn't anything other than knuts, sickles and galleons stored here. However, now that he knew more about magical families due to his classes, he expected to find a lot more. There should have been mystical tomes, ones too precious to keep at a personal library in the house where his family lived before the war, mystical artifacts, all kinds of things. Especially since his parents had gone into hiding; they would have put _everything_ that had any value at all in their vault to keep it safe from Voldemort.

Harry sighed, not sure what to do next. He hadn't remembered seeing any of those things the last time he'd been in here, but he thought it might have been because he was too distracted by the piles of wealth lying around. There certainly was more in the vault hidden behind those gigantic piles of precious metals, the only problem was that it was only more money. Well, inasmuch as you could call that a problem anyway. Where _was_ everything? He'd just have to ask the goblins if there were any other holdings in Gringotts that belonged to his family and hope that the answer was to the affirmative.

~POV Change~

"So what do you plan to do about this contract?" Hermione asked rather boldly. "It's obvious that Harry wants out, but will you father agree to that?" Her tone shows her obvious disapproval of the whole situation, as well as her doubt that dissolving this engagement will be easy.

Daphne looked over at Hermione sharply. "I have tolerated your presence during what would normally be personal, _private_ discussions with my betrothed because he wishes it so. I accepted your presence here today, out of appreciation, because I do not doubt that it was you who made known to him his error in our last conversation. However this goes against every custom I have been raised to follow. Do not, assume that such tolerance gives you the right to speak to me in any way you choose. You know what you are allowed know, and should realize how privileged you have been to know as much as you do. I have already been unable to tell him as much as I'd like because I have yet to receive his word that he will not reveal what I disclose to him, to you. As for your question about our future together, that information remains between Harry and I until we see fit to disclose it. The only people who have any right to know anything other than us, would be our families. I realize that Harry relies on you for informational purposes, but he is not here right now, and you are speaking to me, not him. I know he is considered a "good catch" and that would be even more so for a muggle–born like yourself, but for now he remains my betrothed, regardless of what our current intentions or wants are, therefore asking what we intend to do about this situation and other such questions are rather rude from someone who is not family to either of us, especially when not asked delicately."

"H–" Hermione began, only to be interrupted.

"I'm not finished yet." Daphne said, interrupting her Gryffindor counterpart. "I am Lady Greengrass of Greengrass, and I have been raised knowing my station and all that it entails. I know you find a lot of issues with the magical world, all the muggle–born do. But for all your knowledge, you muggles have forgotten a simple thing called etiquette. You have to remember, we may have invited you, but _you_ are the ones who came to join _us_. When you go to visit a foreign country, if you are polite, you observe their customs, and are required to follow their laws. When a foreigner comes to your country you are angry if they don't observe your customs, because they are in _your_ home. If they break your laws, they go to your prisons. Why should you expect things to be different here? You have been to your classes, you have learned many of our customs, and enough of our laws to stay out of trouble. I don't expect you to obey them all, as you have yet to learn them all, but you _will_ observe the ones you know if you want respect from anyone. This is _our_ country, not yours. It was built on the graves of _my_ ancestors, and you _will_ respect that, even if you don't agree with what it has become. I am fully willing to be friendly, polite, and respectful, but only to those who are the same to me. You will not get anywhere trying to hold us to your muggle standards, and if you are even a tenth as honest and objective as you are intelligent, you will admit that it's only fair."

~POV Change~

These goblins all had interesting names, and those names also seemed to go according to their rank. There was Griphook, who he had met on his first trip here, (though Harry hadn't run into him today) and he was only a cart driver, one of the lowest ranks there was in this job as far as Harry could tell. Then those had met today: Stonecrusher, the teller, Rubyfist the vault–key maker, and Diamondclaw the general accounts manager. Still, after talking to all three of them it took about an hour or so to get things straightened out.

Apparently, the vault that Harry was in was his father's personal vault. There was another vault, the Potter family vault, that didn't get passed down to his parents until his grandparents had died. It was now his, he just hadn't received the key, and wouldn't until he was of age, which wouldn't be until he graduated from Hogwarts. Until then the vault was held "in trust" by Gringotts, and while they couldn't sell off anything, they could manage investments and loans with the money (for a fee of course). That vault normally held the head of the family's wealth, and a few chosen items that they didn't keep in their home, for security reasons. However once his parents knew Voldemort was after them and went into hiding, his parents had added everything in it from their home that they hadn't taken with them.

Not everything in the family vault was going to be "uber powerful" as a result of that of course, but some things were, and it was just easier to keep all the things together and move them all at once into one extra secure vault, than to take the time to separate the important things from the not–so–important, and make trips to different vaults. Especially when they were running for their lives, and time was of the essence.

~POV Change~

"I... suppose you might have a point," Hermione said slowly, "but Harry is my friend, and he brought me here to help him figure a way out of this, so I have to ask questions, private or not. And even besides that, what about when customs are wrong? How can you change if you don't consider different things?"

Daphne could only sigh. "Of course you are going to ask questions, but the nature of your questions will be limited to the contract, and the contract alone. What I or my father will do, or will not do has nothing to do with the terms of the contract, except that he will have to agree to disregard it if there is no other way for Harry to get out of it, provided he still wants to of course. Asking me whether or not he _will_ dissolve the agreement changes nothing."

"And our customs? Really?" A quiet sigh escapes Daphne's lips before she speaks again. "No wonder you were sorted into Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw. You might have the best grades, but for all your brains you tend to jump headfirst into things without taking the time to actually look around and find out what's really going on. All you see is what is on the surface. Look at you muggles, and look at us. Do you honestly think that we don't know of the things you have accomplished? You know nothing of the history of the wizarding world. It wasn't until you started using electricity for everything that we began ignoring you completely. We know who Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Edison are. They are the men who ensured that our two societies were completely incapable of ever merging back into one. Up until that point, we watched you closely.

We have taken things that you have done, we have learned to use what you have. We might appear backwards to you since we don't have your "modern" technology, but most of that stuff just breaks around us, and is therefore useless. Once you started using electricity your progress was no longer of any worth to us. You see, it's not that we didn't see the use of science, we just planned better. Let the non–magicals work on non–magical science, and take what they find. Let us work on magical sciences. After all, only a mage can work on magic, because only mages can sense and manipulate it. We are too few in number to waste time and talent studying things that can be left to those without our gifts, those who have more of a need to study mundane things. It was a conscious decision for mages to only study magic, and to leave the mundane sciences to your people. That was when the alchemists split from the scientists, and that action was the predecessor to the kernel of an idea that eventually grew to become the Statue of Secrecy."

"As for your customs, muggles themselves believe things were better the way they used to be. All you hear about is how things were better "in the old days". Wizarding countries haven't had a war against each other in over 3000 years. We have had wars, but they were all internal, and they were only against those all countries considered evil, people like Voldemort and Gellert Grindelwald. Much like your muggle Hitler, who was actually Grindelwald's muggle counterpart as Grindelwald intended to control both worlds, there will always be a few downright evil people, but in general we don't just go around invading each other's countries, destroying their way of life, all because we can. Sure, people's quality of life might be less in certain places, but that doesn't give us an excuse to invade and subvert them to our culture. That's nothing more than a bully justifying himself with a pretty sounding excuse."

"If you want to change things, first you look and see what good reasons there might actually be for us doing what we do, and if you can't find any, you _ask_. You don't just jump in ranting about what you think is best, ready to stomp all over everything. Customs became customs because they were _useful_. They had to start somewhere, and they started because they were good ideas. Sure, some of them may be out of date _now_, but others might not. The only way to tell, is to try them out and see for yourself how they work. If you yourself aren't willing to see that someone who does things differently than you might be actually doing it better than you are, how can you expect us to? Even more importantly, why should we listen to such an obvious hypocrite?"

Hermione thought on this and after a while had to admit that it did make sense. You can't expect people to listen to those who didn't practice what they preached. So, after careful thought, she allowed her more Ravenclaw traits to overcome her Gryffindor traits for a while, and decided to ask Daphne about wizarding customs and traditions and why they existed (especially concerning marriage and relationships considering it's importance to the current situation) while they waited for Harry to return.

~POV Change~

This trip was going to be a bust. If the contract was here, it would be in the family vault, and he would not have access to it until his graduation from Hogwarts. He could only ask to see Lord Greengrass' copy and hope he didn't take offense to the request. It'd probably be best to have Daphne explain the reasons behind the request as well as make the request herself. Even then, there was no guarantee that the Lord Greengrass would consent to such a request. It might be in his benefit not to, especially if he wanted this marriage to go through, (depending on the conditions of the engagement) and it wasn't his fault that Harry didn't have access to his family vault.

This had to be handled carefully if he didn't want to anger his (possible) soon–to–be father–in–law, and that meant getting Daphne to do things. She'd come with him and Hermione today, but she still hadn't completely forgiven him for his outburst. He'd probably have to grovel. Turning these thoughts over in his mind, he walked down the hallway towards the waiting room.

~Timeskip~

When Harry returned to the waiting room he found Daphne and Hermione deep in discussion over tea. He thought he'd heard something about concubines of all things before he opened the door. As soon as he walked into the room Hermione started to say something, only to stop and look at Daphne. Harry wasn't sure what to make of this, as Hermione rarely allowed something to hold her tongue from what she felt she needed to say, but figured it must be important if Hermione was holding back. He decided to let her abnormal behavior (at least for her) slide and just ask her about it later. Daphne, for her part, didn't say anything. She just waited, one eyebrow raised questioningly, no doubt expecting him to ask her questions or something. He would, but they probably wouldn't be the questions she was expecting.

"Well Daphne, it seems that coming here in hopes of seeing the contract was a waste." The look of honest confusion that flashed across her face before she could clear it away with her usual impassive look further convinced him that this wasn't just some elaborate scheme to either get close to him as the Boy–Who–Lived, or one of Malfoy's pranks, as most people have trouble containing the initial flashes of emotion that they get when they hear or see something they weren't expecting, and so he continued.

"Right now I only have access to a trust vault that my parents set up for me. As you know, most vaults of that nature don't contain much at all except money, and usually only enough money for an allowance. My vault contains more money than that, but only because of certain safeguards put into my parents' wills in case they didn't survive the war. I have enough money to survive on if necessary, and can pull extra out from the main vault to an extent in the event of an emergency. However any and all artifacts inside the main vault are sealed off except in the case of a life–threatening event. If the contract is anywhere, it's probably inside the main vault. Unfortunately, that means that if I am to see this contract for myself, until I reach my majority, the only thing I can do is look at your father's copy. While I doubt you are lying about the existence of the contract, what I am most interested in are the conditions under which it must be fulfilled, as well as the conditions that would void it, if any such conditions exist. To determine these things, I obviously would need to read it, or at least a copy of it. I realize that you are still angry with me, and rightfully so, but I would be very grateful if you could intercede on my behalf to your father by requesting such a copy for me to look over."

Harry had practiced this speech in his head all the way from Diamondclaw's office, and while it wasn't the best way he could think of asking her, it was the best he could do on short notice.

Daphne paused for a moment to think before replying. "Perhaps this isn't the best place to discuss this. This is a waiting room after all, and we aren't waiting for you any longer. Others might require it's use. Besides, we do have shopping to do before this trip is over, and this talk is liable to be a long one. Better to do it when we aren't pressed for time. One of the empty classrooms at school should suffice, provided we put up a powerful enough privacy ward. I know a particularly good one that my family invented, but it requires more power than I can provide right now. All three of us however... Yes, that should be sufficient to empower the ward, especially considering how powerful Harry is. He might even be able to power the thing himself, no matter that our cores haven't finished maturing yet."

It took a bit more convincing, but both Harry and Hermione eventually saw the wisdom of her idea, especially once they noticed how late in the day it actually was, and so they decided to leave Gringotts and go shopping for their holiday gifts.


	9. Chapter Eight

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

~Chapter Eight~

**AN:** (Note, ANs 1 & 2 aren't important at all.) Well this chapter is short, but I've been working on a special project lately for work. I, and I alone, am responsible for manually updating the security for _every single laptop_ on my base. Do you have any idea how many laptops exist on an Air Force base? I don't even do my normal job right now. This is all I do. I've been exhausted, but I didn't want to leave you without an update for too long, so here is what I have. Also, this chapter was giving me trouble, mostly because I still hadn't decided which of 3 or 4 different endings I was going to use until today.

**AN2:** I haven't been writing as much lately for other reasons beyond work. My friends got me caught up in Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate, but I've almost got everything I want in that, so I'll soon be focusing more on this fic again. That damn Jhen Morhan and his earth dragon gems, between him and Alatreon... I want some weapons and armor.

**AN3:** Just to mention, sexual things won't be the only things I will consider having been "censored" from the original books. Voldemort is evil. He will do anything to achieve his goals. That includes (but is not limited to): bullying, manipulation, slander, libel, assault, battery, murder, torture, rape and any other such evils that may turn your stomach. This story (the series, not necessarily this particular book in the series) _will_ include these types of things, sometimes in detail. You are warned. Also, Harry will eventually have to do some things that can be construed as evil himself. He's human, remember. Sometimes he will take the easy way out. Everyone has moments of weakness. And just to let you know, at some point in the future, (not yet, not for a while, or rather, some things are now, but it'll be blatantly obvious later) things will go very easy for Harry when they shouldn't according to realism. There **is** a reason for that. **Trust me.** If you bear with the apparent "ease" at which he overcomes a few things, you'll see why, and **it will make sense.**

**AN4:** I have decided on my ending. I had three different possible ones, and while they all led to the "end" mentioned in the prologue, there would be a vastly different story after Harry's school years depending on just which ending I chose. Mostly because the ending determined what enemies Harry would face on the way to it, (other than Voldemort of course) and what his challenges would be. Also, for this particular ending, I have (if I may say so myself) come up with the single most realistic way of ridding Harry of the horcrux within him, while keeping him alive at the same time. I don't know if this particular method has been used yet, but it's the only way that makes any real sense, while using cannon magic, and not making up something of my own for convenience. Harry will have to make a terrible decision, but it will be a **real** decision. He will have to face his priorities, and make a very difficult choice. If anyone wants to guess, send me a message on . If you're right, I'll respond to your message and you'll get to cameo in the fic as an enemy of Harry's. Not a main enemy, but... one of the main enemy's sidekicks at least. A mid–boss. If you're at least _close_, I'll put you in as a member of Voldemort's inner circle. But, you must not leave the idea in a review! If you do manage to guess I don't want to spoil it for others. But **even if you do guess correctly, if you don't review, you get no prize.** A real review, not just some nonsense for a technicality. I only reward reviewers.

**AN5:** Tired of Malfoy being to only one to be an obvious enemy of Harry's in a house full of Death Eaters, I made a list of names and pulled one out of a hat. I pulled Draco Malfoy. Go figure. So against all odds, (17 to 1) Draco ended up getting to be humiliated this chapter. I guess he and Harry are just destined to be enemies for petty reasons.

**AN6:** In case you haven't noticed yet, Harry having a horcrux in his head will _matter_ in this story. A horcrux can possess a person, as evidenced by the journal. In the first book she had this idea as the scene where Quirrell's turban telling Harry he had to change to Slytherin immediately to fulfill his destiny is a cannon scene taken directly from the book. Why she dropped this idea, I don't know. Maybe she didn't want to hint at him being a horcrux? Whatever. I am not going to let this go in this story, as evidenced by this chapter and the ones that will follow.

~End AN's – Begin Story~

Christmas day had finally arrived. Ron had, predictably, been enthusiastic about opening his presents, and was immensely enjoying his quidditch themed chess set. That the members of the teams were even enchanted to have personalities of the players they were modeled after was an added bonus that only Special Editions had. It had cost a few extra galleons, but Harry thought it worth the extra coin. Ron might still prove useful someday, (although it was beginning to seem more and more unlikely as time went by) and Harry would hate to know that he could have made use of his red–headed acquaintance if he'd only dropped a few extra coins on a gift. The boy was obviously materialistic, which probably stemmed from him only ever receiving hand–me–downs, but still having a good enough home life to only see the bad in that and not learn to appreciate whatever he had like Harry did. Harry could probably spend very little time in Ron's presence and still make good use of him if and when he needed to as long as he kept dropping expensive gifts on him here and there. Even now Ron was showing it off to all the other Gryffindors, and even a few Ravenclaws that he played on occasion. The light in his eyes was unmistakable.

Hermione, on the other hand, he'd gotten a special type of book. It was meant as a journal or diary, where you could write anything you wanted, and was charmed to turn to whatever page had the information you were looking for at the time. As soon as he saw it he knew it would be perfect for her. She had been surprised with the diary at first, but once he explained what it did she immediately realized his real purpose in giving it to her. She was going to use it instead as her notebook in her classes. As much as she loved to study, taking her notes in a book that would immediately flip to the correct reference page when she needed the information would increase her studying ability by far, although he had to endure a 20 minute spiel on why every book in the wizarding world should have the same enchantment as a result. The problem with that was probably very simple. Like almost everything else he had seen so far, for all the abilities that they had, wizards had very few things that they used for practical reasons. (Harry had also gotten himself a book that did the same thing, only he'd write down things he thought were important to remember. Then if he forgot them, he could always just look in the book for whatever he was forgetting and it would tell him.)

He had actually _received_ a few gifts this Christmas (or Yule as the magicals called it) as well. A sweater, from Ron's mother. Apparently she knitted sweaters every year for her children, and being a quasi–friend of Ron's qualified him to receive one as well. He'd gotten a book on psychology from Hermione, though she wouldn't say why she'd gotten it for him, only that he'd find it interesting and possibly helpful. (Harry thought it'd be helpful as well, if it could help him understand and predict his peers even slightly, especially girls like Daphne.) Most surprising for him however was the gift he received from Daphne. He'd gotten her a necklace, a silver chain with a large silver amulet that held runes of protection on the inside. Daphne's name was engraved on the back while the front was adorned with various gemstones used to depict the serpent of Slytherin. Black, green, and silver were Slytherin colors and so the amulet would match her robes and eyes beautifully, and as her fianc an expensive gift like that would (hopefully) go far in bringing him back into her good graces.

Despite the enchantments, it wouldn't keep her safe indefinitely, as the shield it would generate in defense would need to recharge after each use, but it would at least stop her from being taken completely by surprise, unless she was hit with a killing curse right off the bat. Considering it's worth as a protection amulet, her father would no doubt approve of it as well, and if Harry wanted to increase his chances at getting a hold of the elder Greengrass' copy, that was important.

Hermione had said that the gift was too much, that even the wealthy families she had seen didn't wear these types of things but Harry knew that already. If these things were common Draco would have had one himself. He knew he'd made a bad impression on Daphne, and he was used to people looking the other way when he was in a bad situation. If he wanted Daphne to help him, he'd have to put her so far in his debt that the guilt would kill her if she didn't. It seemed that Daphne's little rant wasn't completely useless after all. It had cleared up one thing he hadn't been completely sure of. The Dursleys had apparently been right (about one thing, if nothing else). He was a freak after all, even here in the magical world; and he knew from experience that nobody cared when freaks got screwed over.

It was extremely expensive, (as the goblins were the only ones who had the ability to permanently enchant items) but if it helped him get out of a marriage contract, (even only slightly) Harry would consider it money well spent. Harry wouldn't have minded the price so much, if he'd known before agreeing to have the purchase made that it was nearly impossible to permanently own something that was made by the goblins. "Buying" something from them, only secured ownership for the buyer. The item could not be given away for any reason, though it could be loaned. Once the buyer died, ownership returned to the goblin who made it, or his or her surviving heir, rather than Harry own family. "Renting" according to goblins, was only for ownership that lasted less than the lifetime of the renter. Harry had assumed that buying something meant the same thing to goblins as it did humans since they were speaking the same language. When he read the contract presented to him after the amulet had been forged and shown to work to his satisfaction, he'd been upset when he discovered that he would have to pay even more if he wanted true ownership. He didn't really think it fair that the goblins got to invent their own meanings for words when they wanted considering that English wasn't their language. If they wanted to confuse people, he felt they should only take orders in their own language, gobbledygook. They no doubt did it on purpose, just to wring more money out of a customer after it was too late to turn back, and there was no one who was going to stop them.

The goblin, Brightforge, at first had refused to sell what Harry considered "complete ownership". It was only when Harry agreed to use his fame to advertise for Brightforge whenever people asked him about the amulet that the goblin agreed to give up complete ownership. Luckily, Harry was able to word his agreement so that he only had to tell people who asked _him_ where he got the amulet, so as long as it was unknown that Harry had bought it, no one would think to ask _him_ where it was from. They would all ask Daphne, who would tell them it was a gift from a secret admirer until the time came that they went public with their engagement, _if_ they ever went public about it. (And even that was obviously dependent upon him not managing to get out of the whole thing.) He had sent it by way of one of the school owls instead of Hedwig just for this purpose. Still, he hadn't expected a gift from her in return. To be honest he hadn't expected a gift from anyone, as per usual, but her gift was the most surprising since while they were talking, they weren't exactly comfortable around each other yet. Which was exactly why he hadn't opened it yet. He was sure there would be something good inside, (if she was bothering to send him something, then it was as his fianc and apparently there were rules about that sort of thing) but not sure if it was going to be trapped to at least cause him some temporary pain or embarrassment before he'd get to actually use whatever she'd sent him.

Harry hadn't opened the letter attached to the package either. He didn't want to open any of it in front of anyone else. Part of him hoped it was the contract, but he doubted that very seriously for multiple reasons.

~POV Change~

Tracey Davis had never seen as beautiful an amulet as the one she was looking at now; at least, not outside of one of the display cases at Gringotts. And if the look on Daphne's face was anything to go by, she was even more surprised than Tracey was.

The amulet was obviously goblin make, and also obviously magical considering that it pulsed with magelight from the moment Daphne had touched it. The few who possessed artifacts of that nature kept them well hidden since they didn't really own them, (according to the goblins anyway) and if it was known that they had them, there would be attempts to take them back. A great many purchases had been made before humans had realized what the goblins really meant when they "sold" something. It would have been bad enough if wizards only lived as long as muggles, but with their extended life–spans, by the time the first person who "bought" something from a goblin craftsman had died literally thousands of items had been purchased. It was one of the main reasons for the first goblin–wizard war.

The goblins had claimed that the human wizards had stolen thousands of galleons worth of magical artifacts when they didn't immediately return them after the death of the original purchaser. Most of those items had been returned as part of the negotiations between the goblins and the Ministry, but some people always found a way to hide what they didn't want to give up. Add in the letter assuring Daphne that the item was truly owned by the giver, having managed to purchase the creating goblin's "crafting rights" and if it was true then that meant that this was the first and only freely owned goblin magical artifact in the world! The other houses would _burn_ with envy when they saw Daphne go walking around wearing that! Hell, Tracey doubted that she _herself_, or even Daphne's own _family_ would be able to keep from being jealous of it.

~POV Change~

Daphne was beginning to think that the grimoire she had sent Harry wasn't good enough. When she'd told Harry that as his fiancshe fully expected a gift for Christmas before they went their separate ways in Diagon Alley, she'd had no idea that he would go this far. Most _wives_ didn't get something this nice. Morgana's left tit, her own _mother_ had only worn something like this at her wedding, at that was only a rental for the day! How had he even managed to _get_ something like this?

Looking at the necklace again she sighed. For this, she'd even have to put up with Granger and her impossibly private questions. Not to mention honestly trying to get her father to show Harry a copy of the contract. Not that she wasn't going to try anyway, but if he had said no, she would have stopped there. Now she'd have to beg, plead, and wheedle as if asking for something extremely special for her birthday that she really wanted, but he didn't want to give. The boy obviously was going over the top to try and guilt her into helping him, but he probably didn't know just how far over the top he'd gone. Politics was a very subtle game, and people seeing her wearing this would send out a lot of possible messages. There was no way she couldn't wear it, she'd opened her gifts in the common room as usual, and now practically her entire house saw her gift and so knew what she had. If she didn't wear it proudly, it would be assumed that it was stolen or gotten through some other illegal means like the imperious curse. It didn't matter what was true, all that mattered was what people _thought_ was true. She _had_ to wear it, or bring shame upon her house.

On the other hand, it wasn't all bad. This tiny little amulet would boost her family's social status by far. Being the only family in the world to truly own a goblin item? That would be construed as them having some sort of inside hand with the goblins, and that could be worth a lot if played correctly considering that the goblins had magics that wizards had not been able to duplicate. The boy didn't really know what he'd done. She'd have to owl her father immediately so that he could plan for the conversations he was sure to have with those who would suspect all kinds of things, and would attempt to verify their suspicions with subtle questions and conversational slips.

~POV Change~

Brightforge sat at his morning meal rubbing his scaled hands together while grinning evilly. He'd nearly thrown the human out when he suggested that Brightforge sell his crafter's rights to the amulet when an idea popped into his head. He would be the first goblin to have ever sold something outright to a human mage.

The humans were jealous, greedy creatures. They always needed to show that they were just as good, if not better, than their fellow humans. This was often done by showing off possessions. Every human mage in the entire _world_ would believe that if he'd done it once, he could be convinced to do so again. Even if he didn't agree, they would flock to his shop and the wealthy would agree to "rent" items as the humans called it, hoping to build a friendly business relationship with him so that he might one day be convinced to sell something outright again, only to them instead of Harry Potter. He would put all of his competitors out of business and his riches would increase a thousand–fold! He could see the gold filling his vault already. As soon as that thought had settled in his mind, he'd changed his tactics completely, and ended up giving the boy exactly what he wanted.

Brightforge frowned slightly as an uncomfortable thought went through his mind. He just had to hope that the human never realized that the reason goblins didn't sell their craftsman's rights to anyone, was because once they were given, they were given _forever_. A crafter's rights didn't just apply to one item after all. They applied to any and all items of the same type (magical or non–magical) that were created for the person who owned those rights. And since crafter's rights were hereditary, anyone in Harry Potter's entire family line, (from him on down, not any cousins or some such) could come back at any time and request that Brightforge make another enchanted item for him, and Brightforge would have to. The human in question would have to pay a fair price of course, but Brightforge couldn't refuse to do the work on any other grounds, (excepting medical grounds) nor could he charge extra for true ownership as they already had it. He would only be able to charge them for the price of materials, enchanting said materials, and forging skill. Still, considering that the boy hadn't known about craftsman's rights in the first place, and that pure–blood wizards in general never bothered learning more about other magical races than they absolutely had to, and they _definitely_ never bothered to pay attention to what muggle–born wizards had to say, (and they were the only ones curious enough to learn these types of things more often than not anyway) he was relatively safe from that.

Confident that the issue would never come up, Brightforge grasped his salamander steak and bit down on it savagely, enjoying the taste of it's blood in his mouth.

~POV Change~

After going through all the other gifts, Harry took Daphne's gift to he bed in the dorms. Closing the curtains for privacy, he hoped that whatever spell she put on the gift wasn't too terrible. Deciding to just get it over with, he put the larger package down on the bed next to him and opened the letter first. If he was shocked to get a gift, he was even more shocked at the nature of the letter. It was an apology.

_Dear Harry,_

_I am writing this letter for two reasons. First, to tell you the nature of the book in your package, and second, to apologize for my behavior at our meeting by the lake. While you may have deserved a slap, a scolding, and definitely some other form of punishment, I went too far in my return statement to you. While I can say that I was not myself, having been on an emotional knife–edge while waiting to meet you personally and that your quick judgment of me brought all my fears of how horrible you could possibly be to life, it does not excuse my behavior._

_Yes, I was an emotional wreck. Yes, I was distraught at your harsh judgment. Yes, I was angered by Hermione's presence in what should have been a private meeting, and even felt threatened by her presence, as it meant you had support of some kind for that meeting, while I did not. Still, I have been raised better than that. I have been taught to hold my emotions and act according to the situation. I knew that you very likely did not know of the contract considering how little you knew about anything magical, as you've shown in class numerous times since the beginning of the year. I knew that you could and very likely would lash out at me if you didn't know since I would be the first person you could attach blame onto. Yet even knowing all these things, I allowed my emotions to overwhelm my mind. I lashed out at you in retaliation, no different from an animal. I said things that I don't even think when I see you, things that I'd heard Malfoy mention whenever he talked badly about you, simply because I knew they would probably hurt you, and I wanted you to feel the pain I was feeling._

_Have you ever done that? Lashed out at someone, and said hurtful things to them that you don't really think about them, that you've heard others say, and said them because you knew they would hurt? Somehow I doubt it. I know this apology is only words on parchment, and it doesn't absolve me of what I've done, but I hope you will at least understand that I am not perfect, and will give me the chance to show that I am not the person you met that day; that Greengrasses are not Malfoys._

_The gift you have in the package is a grimoire. One of the many that my family use in their magics. As you know the price of the contract was your family gaining knowledge of my family's magic. One or more of our spells is what helped your parents come up with a way to save you from the killing curse. It didn't do it by itself, or we'd all have had such protection, but mixed with whatever your mother and father were doing..._

_These spells are not likely to be one of those, as they mostly have nothing to do with soul magic, but it is magic that you should have grown up with had your parents survived as well. It is one of the lesser volumes, the higher magics only to be given once the contract is completed, but still more than what you have now. I hope it serves you well._

_A word caution however. Whether or not we do complete the contract, you will still be bound to keep these magics secret. This is a component of the contract, and you risk losing your magic (death) should you fail to do so. That means that you cannot tell, show, or even hint at this magic to Hermione (or anyone else). It also means that if we do not fulfill the contract, then you also cannot show your eventual wife or children. Nor can you leave any type of record of the spell that they can find and piece together. If you feel that you cannot limit yourself to these things, return the book to me, unopened, and I'll find you another gift. Be absolutely sure before you open the book Harry. The magic will not care about your intentions, or accidents. It WILL kill you._

_Happy Yule, good luck and best wishes,_

_Your fianc_

_Daphne_

Harry leaned back on his palms with a sigh. Having read the letter Harry wasn't sure what to think. He usually judged people very harshly, he knew that, and even so he rarely changed his mind about them. In his experience, people tended to show you just who they really were when the were angry. That was when the real person came out, and they would tell you exactly what they _really_ thought of you.

Even so, staying angry at Daphne seemed wrong. He could certainly understand how emotions could wreak havoc with your mind and actions, he himself had lashed out in anger as soon as he'd heard about the contract. She hadn't been the one to initiate it, if she'd even been born yet. It wasn't unheard of to have a contract put into place on a future child, it happened all the time. (Which reminded him that he needed to find out her birthday. Hermione's too, now that he was thinking about it.)

Looking over at the grimoire, still carefully wrapped with his name on the tag, he felt guilt begin to settle in on him. Daphne hadn't really been at fault for anything during the meeting. Not at first. He had made her hostile, and she had rightfully lashed back at him. Harsher than he had, sure, but he had struck first. People would say that Harry hurting Daphne first didn't absolve her of guilt, that two wrongs didn't make a right, turn the other cheek, and other such inane nonsense that they regurgitated all the time only because they themselves had never been bullied, not physically anyway, and they'd been told it themselves as children. It sounded selfless, and people associated selflessness with good, as if acting in that way made them better somehow, so they'd never actually thought about the truth of the statement.

Turn the other cheek? Sure that might work if you were Jesus, or Superman, and facing a normal human (who didn't have kryptonite) instead of a super–villain like Darkseid. But what would turning the other cheek do, even for Superman, against someone like Doomsday? Or for the Allied powers against the Axis powers? All it would do is enslave the earth. When you said things like that, they sounded nice on the surface, but what you were really saying was that you couldn't handle doing violence. In fact, you couldn't handle it so much, that not only would you not fight, but no one else should either, just because of your particular weakness. You wouldn't care if the entire world was enslaved by Hitler or his comic book counterpart, because not fighting back was more important. You valued your personal squeamishness (or sense of right and wrong or whatever blockage you had) over the lives and freedom of everyone else around you. What gave you that right? If it was only you who had to deal with the consequences then fine, but pushing that stupidity on other people as well? Sheer arrogance. Not to mention it was also contradictory, since the very people who said those things also depended on police, and military to protect them. They (usually) didn't see those individuals as bad if they used force. What made them different? Nothing.

That was why Harry hadn't been upset with Daphne (once he'd initially calmed down) because of what she did. What she said hurt him, and for a while he'd wanted to hurt her back, sure, but that was natural. Logically he knew it was just his animal brain wanting to protect itself by showing he could hurt her more than she could hurt him. Instinct, nothing more. He couldn't fault her for striking back, not even for doing so as viciously as she did. It only made sense. If you have an enemy that hits you first, you hit back as hard as you can immediately. You show them that you can overwhelm them in an instant, and they assume that you can do so again at any time, because books, comics, video games, movies and cartoons have taught them that no enemy uses their trump card from the start. They would assume that what you used was your _weakest_ attack, and that they couldn't stand up to a full force assault if they gave you a reason to really get serious.

In a one–on–one fight, physical or verbal, if your best attack didn't work from the start when they weren't ready for it, it wouldn't have worked later anyway, because their guard would be up more the longer the fight went on, especially if you were losing. You'd only use the trump card if you were losing after all, and everyone knows a losing opponent gets desperate. They'd be more ready for something crazy than ever. It wouldn't work on a military scale (if Dudley's games were anything to go by) because their defenses should always be up, and so it was too risky if your trump card failed because you couldn't threaten to use anything worse later, but on a personal one–on–one basis, it wasn't quite so disastrous if it didn't work as planned. Of course, Harry hadn't done anything like this to Dudley simply because he didn't _have_ anything that would work on him before. Now that he had magic he would have spells to use once he got home, but before? Dudley was bigger, stronger, and had people he could use as back–up, while Harry was alone.

With a start, Harry realized something was wrong. Sure, he'd read a lot in the local library, and he'd learned a little about the Holocaust in his muggle primary school, but even for someone as introspective as he was, this thinking was more involved than he usually went. He _could_ have gone this far, but his thoughts were... different. Older, and more experienced. It didn't jive with his normal eleven–year–old self. Where was this coming from? Shaking his head to help clear all the stray thoughts, he looked over at the grimoire before placing it into his trunk that he kept at the foot of his bed. He'd have to think about the consequences before he took a look at that book, and he wasn't in the mood to read it anyway. He was starting to get a headache. Absently rubbing his scar, Harry got up and headed down the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room, and from there to the kitchens, not giving another thought to the strange paths his thoughts had been taking lately. He didn't even notice that the memory of even _thinking_ there was any strangeness at all was quickly disappearing from his mind. Maybe a quick snack from the Hogwarts house elves would help his headache. He had missed breakfast, after all.

~POV Change~

Draco Malfoy was having an amazingly good day. Oh it had started out rather normal, he'd gotten Yule gifts from his mother and father, they were certainly going to be more expensive than anyone else's gifts in his house, and he was immensely proud. His new cloak, lined with real silver and emerald, enchanted to become thread, glittered in the torchlight of the castle. He had a silver amulet, upon which was engraved the legendary winged serpent, said to have been specially bred by the ancestors of Salazar Slytherin himself, and worshiped as a god by natives as far as the other side of the world. It was a non–magical model of one his father had seen in a goblin shop. It was rather easy to get full–ownership of non–magical items from goblins, (especially since this one had been the practice run for a magical version) but it was still goblin make, and as such very expensive. That, coupled with his new house ring, one that marked him as the heir of his father's house, giving him (limited) access to his father's funds to make purchases on his own without needing permission, was something most heirs did not receive until they came of age. It showed that Draco was not only above his peers due to his family status, but also in his maturity.

Sure, he had bouts of immature actions like any other 12 year old child, but that was to be expected. For him to have been entrusted with _this_ meant that his lessons were going well, both in school, and in life, and that his father felt that it was time he received practical training in managing money. This was a test. He'd be allowed a certain amount of funds every moon, and if he managed it well he'd be given access to more and more of the family vault over the years until (eventually) he had full access to the entire amount. To get this before his third year... He could gloat all month!

There weren't many families with as much money as the Malfoy family, most having used up their funds during the recent wars with the various Dark Lords, leaving for the most part only the dark families that allied with them with any sort of real funds, so Draco only had to inquire about the gifts from three families (5 students as one family had three children) in total before he knew no one else could match him as the other wealthy families didn't have anyone in Hogwarts at the moment. Crabbe and Goyle had received gifts befitting their station, wand holsters so that they could always have their wands close at hand, but nothing too ostentatious. Yet even still the house was full of whispers. Draco hadn't caught much of it, only enough to know that it was about a Yule gift, although that was rather obvious given the timing of the rumors, and that the gift was incredible. He walked a little straighter. He had yet to go to the Slytherin common room, preferring to enter last with his gifts so that his gifts would be the ones talked about for the rest of the day as both the last ones seen and as the most expensive. That meant that there were two possibilities: One, they had obviously noticed his house ring and amulet. Even after checking with the other wealthy Slytherin families, none had received gifts as expensive as his ring and snake amulet, and it was certainly possible that the children of those families had put the word out. Or the others hadn't heard, and there was some other gift they were talking about, but that would soon end once he presented himself to his fellow Slytherins and they saw what _he_ had received.

~POV Change~

Daphne was telling Tracey that her admirer didn't leave a name on the note. Tracey didn't understand it, why wouldn't the person want to take credit for such an amazing gift? It could only be looked upon with favor. Even if it had come from Neville, the shyest, most pathetic boy in their year, he'd get huge points just for the nature of the gift. The whole of the Slytherin common room were talking, trying to figure out who could afford such a gift, while also being on good enough terms with the goblins to be allowed to purchase it, and also interested in Daphne Greengrass. Daphne whispered to her best friend that she knew who the admirer was, but was bound by magepromise not to tell until they both agreed it was the proper time. Tracey's eyes lit with excitement as she whispered in return into Daphne's ear, trying to guess who the admirer was. Daphne would give no hints, only a loud laughing "NO!" at a truly horrible guesses, but no clue to a yes if the guess was at least someone acceptable in her opinion, (so as not to narrow the name down too much in that manner) when the doors to the common room suddenly opened, interrupting the gathered students.

When Draco Malfoy walked in, head high, proud, almost regal; the entire common room grew silent and Daphne knew there was going to be trouble. Her eyes had immediately been drawn to the amulet proudly displayed over his robes.

Goblins always made a non–magical prototype first, to make sure everything fit and looked the way the purchaser wanted. That way if it didn't turn out as expected, at least only some gems were wasted, and not whatever efforts they had to put in to permanently enchant the item. Somehow, against all the odds, Malfoy had bought an amulet from the same goblin Harry had purchased hers from. Not only that, but he'd bought the prototype for her own.

Eyes immediately looked from his amulet to hers. Even Tracey's eyes bugged out in shock. "The amulet was from Malfoy?" she screamed, her voice echoing throughout the Slytherin common room, unable to believe that her friend was dating the unofficial leader of the students in their house. Malfoy immediately looked at Daphne and his eyes first widened in shock at seeing the identical, but magical equivalent of his own around her neck, before narrowing in undisguised rage.

This was not going to go over well.


	10. Chapter Nine

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Unabridged, Unvarnished & (Mostly) Uncensored

Chapter Nine

**FFnet readers:** I'm trying a new way of uploading my chapters, sorry if it looks bad. I'm going to see how this works out, and if it's too horrible I'll re-upload it tomorrow. So far it just seems to mess up any place I put "quotes" and I have to manually fix those parts. I did find one or two spots where entire sentences were edited out for some reason though. I'm exhausted, so I may have missed another error or two, but I'll check again asap.

**AN:** Sorry for the shortness and lateness of this chapter. My old computer died so I had to get a new one, and that took a bit of time. Plus I had to re-write this whole chapter from scratch. This chapter isn't finished, but you've all gone a long time without an update because of all that so I wanted to at least give you _something_. The update will come as a replacement of this chapter, NOT as a new chapter. FFnet readers aren't getting anything until the entire chapter is done. You here at hpfanarchive get this because I posted the fic here first. _Note: This has been done, the chapter is updated._ Also, I haven't written in first person for a while, so I'm a little rusty with it, and I may slip in and out of it while I get a feel for it again. I'm going to be kind of sliding into it over the next few chapters, often going from narrator to first, third and back again. It's a little weird for me, but it's time to stop narrating. With the end of this chapter the scene has been built, and the story is ready to flow. So be ready for that next chapter! Hopefully.

**AN2:** Someone pointed out that while I am trying to avoid cliches I went for the overdone "Ice Queen" Daphne persona. On this I can only blame myself. It had been so long since I'd read the real books before I started re-reading for this story, that I had forgotten that Daphne being an 的ce Queenwas fannon instead of cannon. Oops. Ah well, I'm just gonna go with it, and at least now you can't complain about her being OOC when she starts warming up to people.

Also, a fannon convention isn't bad because it's fannon, they're only bad when they don't make sense, are just plain dumb, or aren't used _correctly_. Hell, even the marriage contract in and of itself isn't dumb or unbelievable, it's just too often used to make an easy excuse for a harem in hentai fics. The idiotic magical trunk idea? Could be fine if it was used properly. For example, using that when they were on the horcrux hunt, instead of that crappy tent.

The problem with fannon cliches like these is that people give Harry a mansion inside his trunk, then right after that, they go and give him a _real_ mansion, that just so happens to be protected so that no one can find it, and it makes the trunk redundant, so it either never gets used, or it gets used so rarely that it's obvious that the author is just throwing it in so that it doesn't look like the waste that it turned out to be. Hell, even the few who don't make that mistake and actually have Harry _use_ the trunk, tend to go and make other trunks that are "keyed" into his personal one, and have Harry just up and hand out these keyed trunks that have doorways into his own, to people he barely knows because he "trusts" them. So much for all that security. Then they actually have him go around talking about "constant vigilance" as if he actually was anywhere near as good as Moody.

The point is, any fannon conventions can be good, but only if they are put to use _properly_. This, unfortunately, is rarely done.

**AN3:** Once again, please rest assured that I have a plan for the marriage contract. I'm not just falling into the trap of using easy fannon conventions (even if this particular one is actually believable considering human history) things are not as simple as they seem. My true plot about the contract is a hand that won't be played for a long time. Everything about it will be revealed, but only in spurts, and even when it will seem like you have all the pieces, you won't. You'll know you have all the pieces once you realize that you haven't had any at all. That part of the plot won't come to light until _at least_ after the Tri-wizard tournament. That's all I'm gonna say about that. No more hints, just be patient.

**AN4:** The accounts of witch hunting that Harry researched in his public library are real history of our world, not made up history for the story.

~End AN's Begin Story~

It was already past noon. The morning had been full of opening presents and showing them off to fellow housemates and friends, then a late brunch since no one had bothered to show up for breakfast in all the excitement. Daphne took to the stairs, heading for an empty room on the 7th floor that she and Harry had agreed to use to meet in while inside Hogwarts. It was likely one of the old teacher's lounges considering how the small room had been furnished with two couches and several trays for eating on. But that wasn't what she was worrying about at the moment. She was thinking about what had happened in the Slytherin common room that very morning.

_'Harry's not going to like this.'_ Daphne thought as she walked down the hallway. _'And he's definitely not going to like that I waited all day to tell him about it either, regardless of the fact that we both knew we wouldn't be able to get away from our houses any sooner today.' _Now that she was alone she didn't have to keep up her appearance of being calm and collected, and you could see how frustrated she was in the way she stomped as she walked, and the way her hands kept trying to form fists.

_'Damn it all! I've only just begun making any actual headway with him, and now __**this**__ has to happen!' _Daphne thought, frustrated enough that she was tempted to toss the invaluable amulet down one of Hogwarts many strange holes that lead to places no one could ever seem to find. '_Out of every design available, from every goblin craftsman that sells to humans, Lucius Malfoy had to choose __**this one**__ to give his son?__ Ugh... Whatever your real plan is father, I certainly hope it's worth it. Because despite what I may have told him, Harry Potter was __**not**__ my first choice. Not even my second, if I'm honest. Though third was a definite possibility.'_

She was in front of the room now, and only needed to open the door. Harry would already be inside. She'd passed Hermione in the halls on her way up, and the look in her eyes made it obvious that she was not enjoying the fact that she would miss out on this meeting. Daphne paused with her hand above the doorknob, thinking one last thought before going in.

_'Should I have said something? We agreed to keep the engagement a secret, but this isn't exactly the situation we were expecting to deal with. Malfoy is sure to find out the truth soon, and we need to decide what we're going to say.'_ With these thoughts in mind, she placed her hand on the knob, and opened the door.

~POV Change~

_'I wonder if she liked the necklace?'_ Harry thought as he waited nervously. He tried not to show it, but Daphne was very pretty, and contrary to how he acted and what he said, it **did** affect him. It hadn't at first when he'd thought she was out to get him for one reason or another, but now that he knew she didn't have a hand in the whole thing he couldn't help but feel somewhat attracted to her. The only reasons he was still trying to find a way out of the contract were: 1. He hated not having a choice, 2. He didn't know if they would really work out, and 3. Even if he had a bit of a crush on her, that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to _marry_ her!

Sure, Daphne was smart, had a fiery temper, and the way her eyes lit up when she was happy or angry... This was getting distracting. Hermione had been here with him for the first hour, keeping him company and thanking him for her Yule gifts, though he had to keep correcting her because she kept calling them Christmas gifts instead of Yule. That was understandable though, considering it had been called Christmas in her entire culture all her life. Harry had to keep remembering to call it Yule himself.

_'It doesn't really matter to me what you call the holiday, but I don't think wizards would like it too much.'_ Harry thought to himself. _'Calling their "P__agan" holiday by the name given to it after it had been stolen and twisted to fit the same religion that had hunted them down and burned them at the stake for generations?'_ He didn't think that would go over well. Especially since a lot of living wizards remembered witch trials first hand!_ 'It's no wonder they call us uneducated barbarians. For most of their living memory that's exactly what we were!'_ Which was another fact forgotten by most of the muggleborn students, the same students who were quick to call wizards "backward" and "uneducated".

Harry had done his research. As soon as he'd discovered that he was a wizard, he'd looked it up at the public library. Muggles didn't have a good history of dealing with mages ever since the spread of the Abrahamic religions. There were others that were intolerant of magic as well, but the Abrahamic religions in particular were the ones that had the greatest effect in the current times, and as such were most well known worldwide. People thought of witch hunts and thought about Salem, the witch hunts that happened during the times of the inquisition, and during the times of the crusades. They didn't realize that there were even newer problems, that witch hunts weren't a thing of the past.

In America, the so-called "land of tolerance" it was still bad. In 1928, a Hungarian family was acquitted of killing an old woman they thought was a witch. In 1976, a poor German woman was suspected of being a witch and keeping familiars, so people in her small town ostracized her, pelted her with stones, and killed her animals.

The rest of the world was no better. In 1977 in France, a man was killed for suspected sorcery. In 1981, a mob stoned a woman to death in Mexico because they believed that her witchcraft had caused an attack on the Pope. In Africa today, fears of witchcraft cause the persecution and death of people on a regular basis. Parents who fear that their children are possessed or are witches either kill them or turn them out into the streets.

Most wizards and witches were too powerful to be caught easily, at least by unarmed peasants, which is what most people were even if they didn't use that term anymore for the average person. Still, even peasants could catch mages every now and then. Some mages were weak, barely magical enough to be more than a squib. In extremely rare cases the witches caught were those who had been notified of their ability, but their parents had refused to allow them to be taught magic due to their religious background. These people would sometimes still have incidents of accidental magic due to their lack of training.

However even taking these circumstances things into account, most cases those caught were just normal muggles! Was it really any wonder that magicals stayed separate from them and looked down on their non-magical counterparts when the muggles were so desperate to kill any and all mages that they would slaughter their own kind just on the _chance_ the accused was a mage?

Therein lay the problem and the danger. Hermione was calling their sacred holiday by a Christian name. This was a mistake they expected her to make. All the muggleborn did. But she was also proud of her muggle heritage. She called the magical world backwards every time she ran into something different, and never stopped to even consider the why's. She would assume they why's, not realizing that muggles might have different reasons for acting the same way a magical would. This was why she was already ostracized by the other girls in Gryffindor, she certainly didn't need to give them any other reason to be angry with her. Even outside of Gryffindor, she hadn't had much luck.

It was hard enough to make friends outside your own house, considering you lived with your house, went to class with your house, studied with your house, (although this wasn't mandatory, it usually happened) and ate at the house table. But when your own house shunned you, it made those in other houses wary of you. They assumed that there was a _reason_ that you were being shunned. If your own house abandoned you, why should they stick their necks out for you? There must be something your housemates knew that they didn't, so it was better to just not get involved.

That was the mentality of the students at the school. As bad as it was in this situation Harry had to admit that it made sense. If a large group of people stay away from something, you assume there is a good reason for it, and stay away yourself. If anything, you only get close and investigate it after asking and getting as much information as you can from those who know. After all, if you step out of a building and see everyone running in a panic, you don't ignore them and go in the direction everyone else is running from! You run, immediately, and ask what you're running from while you run. You don't wait to see what's going on. That's how you survive. Wild animals do it all the time. It's how stampedes happen. It keeps them alive. He'd have to talk to her more later.

Harry jumped slightly at the sound of the door slamming. Looking over he saw Daphne standing there with an amused smirk. _'I really need to stop getting so lost in thought. What if that had been Malfoy and his goons instead?'_ He motioned for her to take a seat next to him.

~POV Change~

Draco was sitting in the large chair in front of the fire in the common room. Back straight, slightly leaning to the side with his chin resting on a slightly curled fist, he was almost regal in his appearance. He was a little disappointed in himself for his initial reaction to the surprise that greeted him when he had first entered, but on the whole he hadn't given anything away except to Daphne and an extreme few others in his house who actually had more cunning than ambition, and so were paying close attention to his every move when he'd come in.

Still, the events of the morning were actually turning out to be a good thing. At first he'd been angry. How that girl could have a more expensive gift than his own, even worse, the magical equivalent of what he'd been wearing proudly around his neck, was an insult. It made him seem like a pretender, trying to mimic what he could never have. At least, until he heard what her friend had yelled out to the entire hall it was.

It made sense. The Greengrass family had never been particularly wealthy, at least in the noble pureblood standards, but since they had managed to stay neutral in virtually every war for the last 3700 years, they were the wealthiest of the dark families left if you didn't count those who had joined the side of the various Dark Lords over the centuries. Not only that, but they were known to have some hidden knowledge, some ancient magicks that afforded them the respect (and possibly fear) that allowed them to remain neutral and not be forced to choose a side like every other dark family of note.

Even if the magics they held weren't useful for war, they were ancient. Most of the old magicks were lost to time. Merlin had been the last of the truly great mages. His enemy, an unknown wizard that had been the _real_ cause of the problems between him, Arthur, Morgan, and Morgana Le Fey, had been extremely powerful. So powerful that Merlin hadn't been able to defeat him completely, only seal him away. In order to ensure that the enemy was never released, Merlin sought out every tome of magic he could and destroyed them.

Merlin knew that the magics could (and eventually would) be rediscovered, but that was why he had told Arthur to support the spread of Christianity, a religion that condemned Merlin himself. He had hoped that the religion would abolish magic from the world completely, ensuring that no one could ever have the knowledge required to open the seal, so that the world was never faced with the threat of his enemy's return. It was why the great mage had never taken a student. That was the legend, anyway. It probably wasn't completely accurate, but it was undoubtedly more accurate than the wild tales the muggles had of the great one and the muggle king he guided. (The muggles actually said that Merlin served Arthur. A wizard? One as great as Merlin, serving a muggle? HA!)

But things never did quite go as planned. Not even for Merlin. Perhaps especially not for him. Magic survived. In fact, not only did magic survive, but it was making a comeback. Muggles were getting more and more interested in what they called "esoteric knowledge" or "the occult" and if the trend continued, there might be a time when the magical could would come out openly to the mundane world once again, (as it's rulers, of course) though whether they actually _would_ do so... Not only that, but spells had survived as well. Any and all great spells that were remembered had been re-written into family grimories after Merlin was dead and could no longer punish any mage he found who defied his decree to destroy any record of any but the simplest magics. In fact, what he'd done probably made things worse.

Draco Malfoy wasn't stupid. He knew that dark magic had it's risks. This was why only those with the proper discipline, power, and _wisdom_ were chosen to be taught in it's usage. Dark or not, not even the many Dark Lords that had arisen wanted to awaken the enemy of Merlin. _That_ beast had wanted to destroy them all if the tales were to be believed. Light, dark, neutral, none of it mattered. But Merlin hadn't anticipated human nature. It wasn't his fault really. Psychology as an official study wasn't even in existence yet when he was alive, and so he couldn't be expected to have learned how people thought and acted outside of his own personal experiences.

It never occurred to Merlin that most good people never really needed to use the most powerful spells, so once he was gone the spells that he had used to protect the world against his enemy would be lost forever. It never occurred to him that there were a **lot** more dark lord pretenders who had many dark magics memorized, than there were light knights who had light spells memorized. Even if it had, he never thought that those same dark lord aspirants who never had the guts to go through with the rituals, would write them down, and so they had been able to re-create much of the dark magic that had been lost. It never occurred to him that not only would he cause a strange society that had extremely advanced magic in areas like healing and space expansion/distortion, but weak in things like farming and soul magics, but that he would also skew the balance of power between the light and the dark firmly into the side of darkness.

_This_ was the reason there had been so many Dark Lords rising ever since. The surviving great magics of old, though not completely being of the dark, left the light dominated by the dark in just the sheer number of spells left. And although dark spells could be studied and have their polarizations reversed if one was good enough in arithmancy, and so made into light type magics, it didn't matter if there were no light mages with access to the dark spells to do such a thing. Meanwhile the dark mages would do exactly that to the surviving light magics since those were shared openly.

The result was devastating. It made for a situation in which it was far more likely that a Dark Lord could succeed in taking over the world, since many of the counters for the dark magics that had survived Merlin's purge had been lost. How could they resist the temptation? Many people who long to dominate others fail to take action out of fear of reprisal, but considering how much more powerful the dark was than the light after Merlin's meddling? Hell, it was highly likely that the only reason one hadn't taken over _already_ was sheer luck! This was why the Dark Lord would succeed. His father talked about him like he would return, having learned from his mistakes, and Draco believed it.

Once you thought about these things, Daphne having the magical medallion made sense. Her family probably had some kind of magic that would complete one of the Dark Lord's many resurrection rituals. In order to gain access to the library, a marriage was needed. It would only be right for the woman, the less powerful of the match to wear the protective amulet. Draco, more powerful than Daphne, would be expected to be able to handle himself. He would wear the non-magical version, not needing the extra protection, while still showing all who Daphne belonged to. He would be the one rewarded when he resurrected the Dark Lord with the spells hidden in the Greengrass family grimorie.

It was these thoughts that allowed Draco to contain himself, and act the part of the proud suitor, even if his father had failed to warn him of his plans. Daphne had fled from the common room as soon as she could, not doubt she had seen the anger in his eyes before he'd managed to calm himself and think things through rationally. Perhaps this whole setup was just another test by his father. Well, he would pass it, like he'd passed all the others; and when Daphne returned, he would assure her that he wasn't angry with her. Once girl had calmed down, he'd make use of her mouth.

Draco wished he could do more, but he knew she was too young, and he might damage her irreparably if he went too far with her too soon. He might only be 13, but he was eager for his first sexual experience, and there was nothing like being betrothed to give him the excuses he needed to start with what he _could_ do, without possibly destroying his betrothed's ability to give him an heir in future.

With a smirk of satisfaction on his face, Draco settled further down into his chair in the common room to wait for his betrothed to return. Now he'd have something _else_ to brag about. And when _he_ bragged about his sexual escapades with his dorm brothers, he would be the only one _not_ lying. Even better, they would all know it.

~POV Change~

Daphne wasn't sure what to make of Harry Potter. Everything she had seen from him so far had her expecting him to blow up in her face when she told him about the situation with Malfoy, but contrary to his previous actions when they'd met in the woods, he kept himself calm and was trying to think about how to deal with the issue. If he was capable of keeping his calm and actually _thinking_ his way out of a bad situation unlike most of House Gryffindor, she'd have to raise her estimation of him a notch. Of course, that still depended on how often he did this, and whether or not his thoughts on what to do were actually any good or not, so he hadn't moved up to being her second choice just yet.

She still had to be careful though. Harry was looking for a way out of their contract, and he _was_ quite a catch, even for his name alone. He may be only ranked third, but that was when she was looking at his magical ability and physical attractiveness. If she included his name, and the political clout it would have when he was old enough to make use of his 的 destroyed the Dark Lordcard, he immediately shot up to number one, not that she'd tell _him_ that.

_'That damn Granger girl is still following him around like a stray cat that you felt sorry for and made the mistake of feeding through the winter, then expected to be able to just ignore the entire spring and summer. I'll be damned if I lose to some know-it-all muggleborn witch who doesn't know her place!'_ Just the fact that another girl wanted what was currently "hers" made him even more desirable. It might not be a good thing morally, but it was true nonetheless.

_'I wonder if I-'_ "Huh?" Daphne asked, startled from her thoughts.

"I said are you still against just telling everyone now that the situation has changed?Harry said, looking at her curiously. 的 never had a problem with telling people in the first place. Especially if the whole contract business is as normal as you say. I understand that your house will give you grief over being engaged to a Gryffindor, but you can always let them know that we're looking for a way out of it. That should stop them from giving you too much crap to deal with. Hell, they might even actually be _helpful_ for once, and give you a few ideas to work with, just to keep a Griffindor from bagging a Slytherin."

_'Well at least he is thinking logically about this even if I can't just do that.'_ Daphne thought to herself. 哲 said, voicing her thoughts aloud. "I can't just do that. Even though they would certainly leave me alone, feeling sorry for me for being stuck with an 妬diot Gryffindorthey would still tell their families, and my father would catch all the fallout. What that could do to him politically would-"

"So what?" Harry said, interrupting her thoughts once again. "Someone is going to have to catch the crap for this arrangement sooner or later. The only thing is whether it'll be him or you. Considering that he's the one who made this decision in the first place, and that he did so before you were even old enough to ask for your opinion, I think he should be the one who deals with the fallout, not you. And that's not even taking into consideration that as your father, he should _want_ to be the one to take the fallout, if only to protect you from it. I'm sure he's expecting it sooner or later, you just need to let him know when it's coming so he isn't taken by surprise. It would also help in that we wouldn't need to sneak around to meet up anymore. People would expect to see us together, even if we we're only meeting up to discuss possible ways out of the whole thing. Not only that, but they'll also expect to see us trying to get along, just in case we _can't_ actually figure a way out of this."

_'Well, damn. I never really looked at it that way. __**Is**__ father really expecting me to throw him under the proverbial bus on this? It __**does**__ sound like one of the stupid man things that they do, where they have to "p__rotect" us women from everything, as if we weren't fully capable of dealing with our own problems. Mix that with the fact that he __**is**__ my loving, doting, overprotective father, and it sounds more and more likely as I go. And of course he never __**told**__ me that this was his plan, because he probably thought it was obvious, that I would just "a__ssume" that he was ready and able to deal with all the things that are going to come of this getting out. Ugh, men and their damn pride... Maybe Harry will be useful for more than just his name. Having a male perspective available for questioning will be very useful. I would have never even considered the possibility otherwise.'_

"You... may have a point." Daphne conceded, her expression turning thoughtful as she contemplated whether or not her father expected this course of action. "I would still prefer not to say so unless absolutely necessary. At least until I have contacted my father and confirmed your suspicions. I will admit that they do seem likely, but I would prefer to decided, nodding her head with certainty.

Harry shrugged as he got up from the table. "Then you can say whatever you want, as long as it's not damaging. I'll play along, no reason not to for pushed chair in, and started heading for the door. "I don't have much more time, since you want to keep things under wraps for now, if I don't get back soon, they'll all be asking questions and I'd hate to make up something on the spot and blow your cover with a bad voice and smirk were flirtatious, and took Daphne aback at his sudden change in attitude, but before she could comment on it he was gone.

~POV Change~

Hermione was sitting in the library with her head over Hogwarts, A History; but for once her eyes weren't seeing the words on the pages. She was feeling frustrated, mostly because she couldn't really see a way out of her predicament. She liked Harry. She knew that initially her feelings had been from the event with the troll, but as time went on and she spent more and more time with him, in and out of class, she knew that she actually liked his personality as well. Sure, it could be just another crush, like that boy back in primary, but then, it was also possible that it wasn't. She could already see it, older versions of her and Harry, walking down Diagon Alley with a little boy, heading into Mr. Ollivander's to get Harry Jr. his own wand.

None of that was the real problem though. No, the real problem was Harry and his way of looking at people. Harry didn't seem to like people who treated him differently due to his status as "the-boy-who-lived". Other girls both prettier, and older (and thus more developed) had tried flirting with him, no doubt trying to bag themselves a national hero.

If Hermione showed her interest, Harry would probably insist that her feelings were only a natural result of their life and death experience, tell her no in no uncertain terms, and expect her get over her feelings for him if she wanted to preserve their friendship. Then he'd be left for Daphne, who already had the advantage of being prettier than her, wealthier than her, and far more knowledgeable about magic and the magical world than her. Apparently, she even had the 田ute, innocent little sistergoing for her, (according to rumor anyway) since people like Harry were usually easily won over by little innocent girls and boys. Children too young to be as bad as the rest of the world, at least in Harry's eyes. He'd get close to a child far more easily than anyone else, and getting close to Daphne's sister would mean getting close to Daphne in the end. Especially if he decided to take on the "big brother" role for her. Once that happened, Hermione didn't stand a chance.

Hermione would be damned before she gave up that easily. Harry was _her_ knight goddamn it, and even if that event had been the initial spark for her feelings for him it was the _reality_ of him that allowed those feelings to continue instead of just dying out after being disappointed with his actual personality. She was going to have to do something differently. Something she had never tried before, something she had no experience in despite the efforts of her mother to help her when she'd had a crush before.

Hermione was going to have to _flirt_. She had to be careful though. She couldn't go overboard, her mother said that could turn a guy off quicker than playing hard to get if they were actually a decent guy, and she had a feeling that Harry would be more easily turned off than most. Not just that, but she had to think about what _kind_ of flirting would be most effective with him. Different boys liked different things, again according to her mother. This wasn't going to be easy. She needed a plan.

Nodding to herself, Hermione cleared the desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. She'd start by making a list of everything she knew about Harry, then sending it to her mother asking her for advice. She wouldn't mention his betrothal with Daphne obviously if she could help it, but she would mention that another girl was trying to sink her claws into him. Last time she'd liked a boy she had ignored her mother's advice and had ended up being made fun of in front of her entire class. This time she'd listen. Maybe she'd even try some of that spray her mother always tried to get her to use for her hair. _Maybe_.


End file.
